


no matter how far away (this is the place we were made)

by serenascampbell



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, army wife au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:17:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 23,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenascampbell/pseuds/serenascampbell
Summary: Bernie is asked to do a six-month tour in Afghanistan, and being the soldier that she is, she can't say no. Will Serena support her decision? Will they survive the distance? The kids are all along for the ride too!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really like everyone's feedback on this to tell me whether you think it's worth carrying on with! This feels like a bit of introductory chapter, just showing the vibe of the fic! I hope you all enjoy and want to carry on reading! Not sure how regular updates will be because I vary between three chapters a day and three chapters a month but I'll consider piecing together a schedule.

She had almost missed the phone call, and in her mind, she was wondering why she hadn’t taken just thirty seconds longer to walk into the office.

It took every ounce of her self-control not to say no and refuse without even considering the idea. Of course, she could definitely find an excuse to say no if it came down to it, she knew that, and she was entirely aware that somewhere inside of herself, she _wanted_ to say yes.

“Hey stranger, got you a coffee,” Serena had greeted as she opened the office door and handed over the corrugated cardboard cup, Pulses emblazoned on the side of it. Taking it between her hands, Bernie felt the warmth seeping into her cool fingertips and wondered if she could last six months without a real coffee.

She wasn’t the same person she had been two years ago, she had become dependent on the luxuries of life. Bernie managed to murmur a thanks, at least attempt to appear like she is paying attention to the world around her. Serena knows something is on her mind, she always know, but she won’t pry until she feels she has to.

_Another tour. Another six months in Kabul. Another six months away from everything she has come to consider home._

Her heart was telling her that she couldn’t do it, even if she wanted to. Yet here she was, sat in her office chair and staring mindlessly at her computer screen, wondering whether she could figure out a way to accept. She looked at the photo on her desk of her old unit, sandwiched between other, slightly larger frames. Everybody that she cared about could be squashed into four small squares of pixels. 34 military personnel, six Holby City Hospital employees, and her two kids.

“Ms Wolfe,” her head snapped up at the mention of her name, and she saw Raf standing in the door, looking impatient. “Mr Walmsley in bed six is complaining of intense abdo pain and his blood pressure’s falling fast, I think we need to take him into surgery sooner rather than later.”

“Of course, why don’t you ask Dr Burrows to prep him and we’ll go and scrub in straight away, Mr Di Lucca,” even as the words are coming out of Bernie’s mouth, they feel as if they’re someone else’s.

They are the words of Ms. Bernie Wolfe, Trauma Lead on AAU and girlfriend to Serena Campbell; in the space of a 116-second phone call, she had, once again, become Major Berenice Wolfe of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Bernie felt herself become a stranger again the moment she hung up the phone, the very second she didn’t say no. The Bernie Wolfe that everyone on this ward knew was one that would never again leave Serena Campbell’s side; one who had learnt her lesson after running off to Kyiv and was never going to do anything so mindless ever again.

As she scrubbed in for surgery, what was going to be a biopsy, probably followed by a bowel resection or something equally run-of-the-mill, Bernie realised that she had grown used to the privilege of a proper scrub room in a proper hospital.

The new Bernie, the Bernie of the past fourteen months, would have refused the position without batting an eyelid. And yet, hidden somewhere behind a façade of new beginnings, was the same old soldier that couldn’t refuse her colonel anything he asked. Colonel Alfred Staines, 37 years old, youngest colonel in the RAMC since 1946 and the man who saved her life when she was almost blown to smithereens by a roadside IED.

Following the motions of surgery as she normally would, Bernie wondered if she would even remember what it was like in the field. Everybody here said that the trauma bay was ultimately a field hospital with better central heating; realistically, she had lost touch with what it was truly like to rely solely on your own skills and the skills of your team to save lives. If there weren’t all the machines, all the additional staff members, all the drugs that simply weren’t available in the middle of a warzone, would the combined skills of the Jasmine, Raf and herself get this man back to health?

Surgery didn’t take long, just shy of the two-hour mark. Bernie sent Jasmine off with a well done – that girl really had come on in leaps and bounds in the past few months – and headed back down to the ward.

“How was it, soldier? No issues in surgery?” Bernie shuddered at the use of the term, even in Serena’s endearing tone, it put her on edge all of a sudden.

She shook her head timidly before hurrying off to busy herself with some menial task that could keep her away from the office for a short while. Telling Serena was going to make it real, either way. Whether Serena was going to support her decision or not, she needed time to choose what she wanted to do before she brought anyone else into the debate.

_Six months. 24 weeks. 168 days. Away from Serena, away from the team, away from her kids._

Once upon a time, she’d thought she missed the army. Missed the action, or the brotherhood, or the sense of meaning it gave her. She thought she’d missed that, but then she’d gone to Kyiv, and she’d spent 9 months away from Holby, and she’d realised that nothing could compare to the feeling of missing that.

So why? Why was she still even considering going if she truly didn’t want to and didn’t feel she had to? Because she was still a soldier, somewhere deep down, and she needed to face that before she could move on from it entirely.

She was going to Kabul. Bernie Wolfe was heading back to the military, a farewell tour of sorts.

All that was left, was to tell her very protective, potentially very angry girlfriend about her decision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry guys, of course, I'm not gonna break them up! That would hurt me just as much as it would hurt you, I can't promise it'll be plain sailing because that would be a very boring fic but I can promise you that Berena will remain strong. I really hope you're all enjoying this, I'm uploading again tonight just because while I'm getting into the swing of writing again, I'll probably be writing quite a lot rather quickly!

The two consultants behaved normally for the rest of the day, as Serena cooked dinner and Bernie pretended to help by sitting around and doing very little of anything useful. Jason was staying at Alan’s for the evening after the cinema, so it was just going to be the two of them for the night unless Elinor made a miraculous appearance.

“Shiraz?” Bernie suggested as she stooped to grab a fresh bottle from the rack and glanced across at Serena. She received a look that said quite plainly ‘ _Is that supposed to be a question?_ ’ before smirking and popping the cork to let it breathe.

Serena dished up lasagne for the pair of them and set the two plates down on the kitchen table. She exhaled audibly as she dropped into the chair at the head of the table and allowed herself to relax back into the chair for the first time since her lunch break.

The two shared their space wordlessly, fitting in between each other so well that it seemed orchestrated. Bernie placed a pair of freshly poured glasses of wine upon the table and smiled as she took her fork in hand.

 _She won’t be angry,_ Bernie reassured herself as she pondered how exactly to begin the conversation. She knew that she was lying to herself, that there was no way in hell that Serena was going to take this graciously and not put up a fight, but nonetheless, she knew that they were strong enough now to get past it.

“I got a phone call today.” Her words fell out of her mouth so fast she was convinced they had landed in the wrong order and make no sense at all. Serena looked up, a forkful of pasta suspended in her cheek, with a casual curiousness in her eyes.

Somehow, the most introverted and emotionally-phobic person that Bernie had ever encountered, had ended up falling for the most intuitive human to ever walk the Earth. Serena could tell there was something wrong, and Bernie was wholly aware of that fact, but she was maintaining the pretence for just a little longer in the hope that the right timing might save her skin.

“So did I, Bernie, quite a few in fact. Were you planning to elaborate?” Serena drawled sarcastically, having already swallowed down her food in the long moment of pondering Bernie had taken.

“Sorry, of course, ehm-” Bernie stumbled over her words clumsily. “It was from my old colonel, from my RAMC days…he’s been asked to take control of a new hospital a few miles out of Kabul and he was wondering if I’d be willing to take another tour…just a short one. There’s a promotion in it for me if I go.”

The expression on Serena’s face was unreadable, completely impossible to understand. Her forehead was just slightly creased in a look of confusion and contemplation, and her lips were pursed the way they tended to be when she was holding back tears, but her eyes looked very slightly happy, turned up at the side though she tried to hold a steady glare.

Bernie was wondering what it meant. She never understood anything Serena did until it was explained to her, and the perks of having such an emotionally expressive girlfriend was that she was never left wondering, but somehow, she felt that she wasn’t going to get a straight answer right away.

“You’ve said yes?” The tone is not critical, nor is it sad, nor is it expressive at all. It is the most monotone that Serena’s wonderfully rich voice has ever sounded, in fact.

Shaking her head minutely, Bernie reaches for her wine glass and takes a large gulp. She is fearful that Serena will be able to talk her out of it now, that she no longer has the willpower she used to and that she will give into the temptation of a warm bed and a familiar face every morning far too easily.

“I wouldn’t do that. Not without speaking to you first. If you want to try and talk me out of it then I won’t stop you, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do it, but I think it’s something that I need before I can properly put the army behind me.” Bernie Wolfe is not a woman well-accustomed to the sharing of her feelings, and yet when it comes to this, she feels that honesty is slick as oil as it glides over her tongue and eases her words into the air of the kitchen.

“Obviously, I’d rather you didn’t go, but of course, I wouldn’t try to stand in your way…if it’s what you really want,” Bernie has heard these words before, and the last time she heard them, she betrayed everything she had fought so hard to find for herself; she would not make the same mistake twice. “We could survive it though, Bernie. I know that. As long as you promise to come back to me in one piece, as long as you aren’t going to run away from what we have, then we can get through it.”

Even as the words are leaving Serena’s mouth, Bernie is struggling to believe them. She had expected yelling and crying and the biggest argument the pair of them had ever had, she had been prepared to fight for this opportunity, but she had not begun to imagine that Serena might accept it all so easily.

“You…you’d be okay with it?” Bernie questioned tentatively as she took another small sip of wine, her mouth dry with anxiety.

“Nine months in Kyiv didn’t ruin us, did it. I mean, temporarily, perhaps, but we made it out the other side and look at us now! And I’d hope this time, you’ll find the time to reply to the occasional e-mail. As long as you aren’t running, I don’t care how far you have to go to figure this out for yourself.”

Serena Campbell understood her partner inside out, she knew every intricacy of her body and of her behaviour. She could read Bernie Wolfe like a book, and she had. Outstretching her hand, she squeezed her fingers reassuringly around Bernie’s slender wrist and offered a warm smile.

The two of them returned their focus to their dinner, quickly cooling where it had been deserted between them, and began to eat. After dessert, there was a phone call to be made.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you're all enjoying this, regular upload schedule is probably going to be wednesdays and saturdays but i probably won't stick to that all that well. i really hope you guys are enjoying this, and i would really appreciate your feedback!

Henrik had not been pleased. That was putting it gently. In fact, he had been so disappointed by the announcement of Ms Wolfe’s departure that he had refused to hire a locum replacement. If Serena was so readily enthusiastic about having the ward to herself for six months, then she could look after it entirely on her own.

Really, he was being dramatic. Nobody seemed too pleased about the news. Jasmine had decided to take it personally and was wondering what there was she could to persuade Bernie to stay and carry on mentoring her. Jason was struggling to comprehend why Bernie would ever want to leave if she didn’t have to, but was behaving much like usual. Morven and the boys were mainly concerned with the impact it would have upon Serena, and having observed her support, had given in and congratulated Bernie on the opportunity.

Telling the kids was a whole different business. Cam had taken it with a pinch of salt, happy to hear that it was only six months and that she was planning on it being her last, but Charlotte hadn’t been so enthused with the idea. Apparently, all that was happening was that Bernie was doing exactly what she always did: running. With Charlotte 400 miles away at university, there wasn’t much for her to say on the topic however, so all was well for the months leading up to Bernie’s departure.

“So, Ms Wolfe, ready to get back into the swing of things?” Ric began as he handed over two glasses of wine to his female colleagues. “Worried you’ve lost your touch?”

“Nonsense, Ric! If I’ve survived two years of you bossing me around, a little bit of gunfire isn’t going to frighten me!”

Serena sniggered at the pair of them, the way they bickered like siblings, and wondered if she would ever find people who understood her as well as them. She was glad to have Ric, she knew that six months of lonely evenings in with a bottle of Shiraz wasn’t going to do her much good.

It wasn’t until the days started counting down and the big red circle on the fridge calendar got closer and closer that Serena started to worry. Jason ever so kindly notified her every morning at breakfast that it was only 16 nights, 15 nights, 14 nights, until the woman she loved most in all the world was going to fly off into a warzone and put herself in danger.

Sitting in Albies’ made things feel almost normal, nobody would’ve known, looking at the three of them, that these were farewell drinks because the beautiful blonde woman with the soft features and the messy hair might never see any of them again. Maybe it wasn’t Albies’, maybe it was the wine, or Bernie’s hand on her knee.

“You okay, S’rena?” Bernie asked gently, leaning close as though to perforate the bubble of contemplation that Serena was suffocating herself in.

  _Tell her you’re fine,_ Serena thought, _tell her you’re just tired._

“Don’t die, okay?” Her tone is so casual, she alarms even herself. It sounds as though she’s asking for such a simple favour, asking her to bring coffee with her tomorrow morning or if she can make sure to defrost the chicken.

Ric mumbled something about the gents’ before rising, taking his whiskey with him. The pub is quiet tonight, nowhere near the normal buzz of a Friday evening, yet Serena can feel the blood rushing past her ears as she realises the implications of her words.

“I thought you were okay with this,” Bernie began. _I knew you were pretending,_ she continued in her own head.

“I am.” Serena stated briskly with a tilt of her head and a curl of her lips. “Not panicking, just thinking. Don’t come back in a body bag. Don’t come back with any bits missing or broken or hurt, please. I’m not asking you for much, I’m not asking you to stay, I’m just asking you not to get yourself killed.”

“You know I can’t promise you that, you know that I won’t. But I won’t do anything stupid, I won’t take any risks I don’t need to, and I will do everything I can to get back to you as soon as possible. There’s something worth coming back to, something which I very desperately and eagerly want to come back to, so I will not endanger the chances of that, okay?”

Bernie’s thumb was rubbing up and down the length of Serena’s bare forearm mindlessly, and she had turned herself so that their knees were touching. It wasn’t unfamiliar to them, even in public, but they weren’t the most tactile of couples. Serena had the inside of her cheek held tight between her teeth as she bit back a smile.

“I won’t survive you dying. It sounds like blackmail, and truly I’m not trying to make you feel guilty but it’s true. I think you know that I wouldn’t survive you dying so you better not, okay, Major?” Her words sound teary though she is the greatest actress of them all, even better than Bernie at hiding her feelings when she wants to.

A swift, loyal nod of the head to reassure her and the brunette is back to her smiling, enthusiastic self. She calls over Morven who has just walked through the door and takes Bernie’s hand in her own, intertwining their fingers casually as she brings her glass to her lips.

Serena knows that she can’t wallow in the knowledge that the day is looming, and that she must make the most of the time she has. So she puts on a brave face, keeps her head level, and takes a moment to embrace this feeling.

This will be their last trip to Albies’. This will be Bernie’s last shift. This will be the last time Ric buys Bernie a glass of Shiraz after a long day at work. In fourteen days, this will be a far-off memory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm pleased to hear that people are enjoying this ! please can everyone excuse the terrible quality of smut in this chapter, i am not the biggest fan of writing smut because it's not really within my writing capabilities and i don't want to make you read really poorly written stuff so i did that annoying thing of jumping straight past the actual sex. anyway, keep up the feedback and let me know what you're thinking!

_Thursday 23 rd August 2018. Lieutenant-Colonel Berenice Griselda Wolfe will fly by military aircraft from Holby to Surobi at 1100 hours GMT. She will land at 22:30 AFT and be driven to the newly built field hospital where she will receive instruction from commanding officer._

But it is not Thursday yet. There are 15 hours until Bernie must leave, and those 15 hours will be made the most of.

Serena had switched her shifts for the past couple of days, calling in just about every favour she had so that she could have the longest goodbye possible. Neither of them had left the house in two days, and Jason had been staying with Alan so that they could have the house to themselves.

“Ice cream?” Bernie offered, a warm smile spread across her face as she brandished two tablespoons from the cutlery drawer and set her sights hungrily on the freezer.

“Pistachio. If you dare consider touching that ghastly mint concoction, I will not be kissing you for the rest of the evening.” Serena arched her eyebrow at that particular angle which told Bernie she meant business.

The two women had spent all day relaxing in one another’s company, they hadn’t gotten out of bed until after noon, just laid there wrapped in each other’s arms. They hid under the covers from the truth of the day, hoping that maybe they could make the hours stretch further if they refused to acknowledge the sun had risen.

They’d eaten dinner early, knowing that there were far more important ways to spend their last few hours together. It was almost 7o’clock now and together they had curled up on the sofa as though clinging to each other tight enough might stop the clock’s hands from moving so quickly.

“Did Charlotte call yet?” Serena asked casually, curious to see whether the ice was starting to melt between mother and daughter.

“She text, told me to have a good flight and to get in contact when I get back. I guess that means she’s willing to forgive me eventually,” Bernie responded, uncertain even as the words left her lips.

“You know she’s just being dramatic, it’s what daughters do. Elinor’s just the same,” Serena punctuated her point with a kiss upon Bernie’s knuckles. Their joined hands stayed pressed against Serena’s cheek, her eyes closed as though focusing entirely upon this moment.

On the television was some documentary about how wild animals hunt; Jason had suggested that it might be a nice way to spend their last evening together. Neither of them had been paying very much attention to it, but nevertheless, they had left it on to at least humour Jason.

They rested there in a comfortable silence for what felt like forever, relishing the presence of each other in such a confined space. To share your personal space with someone who you fit so utterly well with is…the closest thing to perfection.

“Kabul better look after you, I’m not sure what I’ll do if you lose the ability to hoist me up the stairs after one too many glasses,” Serena teased, nuzzling her nose into Bernie’s neck.

“I’ll have to make sure I maintain that particular ability then. Can’t have you spending every Friday night on the couch now, can we.” Bernie teased, running her fingers up and down the curve of Serena’s waist. “Whatever will you do while I’m gone?”

“Not much need for a bed if there’s nobody in it,” Serena responded flirtatiously, shifting to press a wanton kiss against Bernie’s lips. Bernie met her with a desire-fuelled pressure, tightening her grip against her waist and bunching up the cotton of her shirt in her fisted hand.

Eagerly, Serena moves in one swift move to straddle Bernie’s thighs. The kiss is desperate, pouring every single emotion into a shared silence in the knowledge that this is a goodbye. Serena pulls Bernie’s shirt over her head, then her own, barely a moment between their lips parting and meeting again.

Bernie runs her fingers over Serena’s bare skin, splaying her palms out against the smooth skin of her back.

Serena pressed kisses down the column of Bernie’s long neck, along her collarbones, peppered her chest eagerly. Her fingers made fast work of the bra - it was familiar territory after all this time – and she pebbled an already hardening nipple between her thumb and finger.

Bernie moaned wantonly, arching her back into Serena’s touch. Her fingers slipping below the waistband of Serena’s jogging bottoms, pushing inside to squeeze the flesh of her buttocks. She knew she’d leave marks, she didn’t care.

“Serena,” Bernie hissed as the brunette stooped to take a nipple in her mouth, nipping before lathing it with her tongue. “Upstairs. Now.”

Bernie removed her hands and lifted her girlfriend by the thighs, groaning at the feeling of Serena’s legs wrapping around her and pulling their cores, hot even through the layers of clothing separating them, together.

The journey up the stairs was easy, well-rehearsed, and Bernie wondered how she could be persuaded to leave this behind for anything. Dropping Serena down ceremoniously onto the bed and clambering on top of her, reaching to kiss Serena eagerly as her hand went for the string of Serena’s trousers.

Serena shoved down her own trousers and underwear impatiently, kicking them off and pulling Bernie back down to her. She almost laughed out loud at the way that Bernie’s hair falls around her face, the way it always does that she will never find uncomical, biting it back and she feels Bernie’s hand between her legs.

“Jesus-” she hissed sharply at the unexpected contact, hips bucking.

Somehow, she was already on the edge, unaware it was possible to get so turned on so fast. Bernie ignored her pleading and dragged out every last second, drinking in the mewls and hums that Serena emitted, noises that Bernie could only equate to the finest melodies ever composed.

It seems to last forever, and when Serena comes, she wonders if this is eternity. With time so short, they stop paying attention to it and simply make the most of every second, dragging it out almost agonizingly.

They spend hours making love to one another, committing every moment, every inch of skin, every kiss to memory.

It must be well past midnight when the two curl up in a post-coital bliss. Bernie is convinced that she will never feel anything as wonderful as the warmth of Serena’s skin against her, the feeling of Serena’s hot, exhausted breath against her neck.

Once she is sure that Serena has fallen asleep, Bernie stretches to check the time and squints to read the clock in the dim light of the bedroom. It reads: _00:51am. 9 hours and counting._


	5. Chapter 5

Serena woke early, with the sun, and found Bernie still sound asleep beside her.

 _I will not cry today,_ Serena told herself, a vow that she will not permit herself to be sad about something so temporary. Her shift started at 12, she didn’t have time to be sad.

Shifting slightly to sit up against the headboard, she felt Bernie’s arm which had been strewn loosely across her waist, tighten. A sleepy grumble alerted her to the stirring blonde, and she saw the pout upon her lips as she began to wake up.

“Gumonin…” Bernie mumbled, turning to bury her face in Serena’s neck.

It was a wordless agreement between the two of them. This morning would be like any other morning. When Bernie left, they would kiss a little longer and they would hug a little tighter, and when they said ‘I love you’, they would mean it a little more.

 Serena rolled out of bed, sauntering across to the bedroom door, still ajar from last night, and wrapping her silk robe around herself. She glanced back towards the bed, she smiled at the sight of Bernie with her face buried in her pillow, before heading downstairs to make the coffee.

The morning _is_ normal. They made it normal, force it into it’s typical routine as though pretending that today isn’t happening could stop it in its tracks.

Bernie drinks her coffee. Serena drinks her coffee. Bernie gets dressed for work. Serena gets dressed for work. Bernie gets jam on her shirt and changes for work. Serena sits down to watch the news. Bernie gets in the way of the screen, distracting her with more interesting breakfast activities. This is their morning routine, and today will be no different.

Apparently, it works a little too well because Bernie has to stop herself from offering to pick up Jason from Alan’s on her way into work.

They found ways to fill the hours, having woken far earlier than necessary, busying themselves with housework and tv. Eventually 9:45 rolled around and it was almost time to leave, Serena could feel her body tense, even though her mind refuses to accept what was happening.

“Serena!” Bernie called, her voice filling the house as she struggles with her rucksack. “Is the car here?”

“Just pulled up!” Serena responded from her spot by the window, stepping out into the hallway and finding Bernie dragging her bag down the stairs.

Without a word, Serena reaches out a hand and the two of them work to get the enormous luggage safely to the ground.

There is a moment, a moment which takes up a tiny eternity, of stillness between the two of them, before Bernie wraps Serena in her arms, lifting her frame off the ground for just a second before placing her down. They had promised they wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t treat this like forever, but in that moment, there had been no other option.

“Have a good day. Look after yourself.” This was Serena’s daily farewell, the thing she had said every morning since the first. _Today is no different,_ she told herself though she didn’t believe it.

Breathing in deeply, Bernie held the scent of this moment in her lungs and hoped to keep it there for the long weeks to come. She could not forget this, it would keep her going.

Serena pulled back and pressed a long, gentle kiss against Bernie’s lips, straining to suspend this moment with every fibre of her being.

Hoisting Bernie’s rucksack down the drive, into the back of the Land Rover Defender, was a humorous affair. Politely, the blonde greets her escort before returning her attention to Serena, who stands at the end of the drive with a wide smile plastered on her face.

“It’s not forever,” she whispered to herself as she walks back briskly and planted a kiss against Serena’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you.” The response is almost instinctive, an everyday statement that had ceased to carry any true meaning but right now, in the stressed syllables and the way her eyes seem to amplify her words, it means everything it ever could.

With a dutiful nod, Bernie turns and makes her way around to the passenger door, taking her seat and glancing one last time towards Serena with a heartfelt smile.

Serena watched the car drive away, bit her lip between her teeth and cast a half-hearted wave after the vehicle. Then she went on with her day.

The first hour was the hardest, after that it just felt like a normal day at work. She buried herself in paperwork and in patient care and she pretended everything was normal for as long as she could.

Morven was the first to see through it, she’d done an awful lot of pretending to be fine through Arthur’s illness and she knew what it looked like on a person. She knew that everything Serena was pushing down, refusing to face, was bubbling up inside her and was going to explode sooner or later.

She makes sure that the woman she has come to care about so dearly is stocked with coffee and pastries at every given moment of the day, and Serena pretends not to notice that she’s being babied just slightly.

The shift is long, Serena’s pulling a double so she won’t be home until noon. _No point in rushing home to an empty bed._  She tries to get a couple of hours in the on-call room but she knows that the silence will leave her yearning to the quiet sound of Bernie’s breathing and decides against the idea.

Pretending forever isn’t an option. Pretending for six months’ is an insurmountable goal. But pretending for today is entirely within her reaches.

Work was normal. It felt normal. It was going to have to become _normal_ for the time being. Serena would submerge herself in a normal that wasn’t her own and she would make the most of it.

“Ms Campbell! RTC on its way in, we need you.” Raf’s voice. Another distraction. Another five minutes of not thinking about the fact Bernie was halfway across the world.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHRISTMAS BREAK IS FINALLY HERE! I will have time to write a little more though i'm not sure if that will mean more uploads on this ! anyway, i hope everyone is enjoying the festive season, and is enjoying this fic!

The flight was long and exhausting, somehow Bernie had forgotten just how draining it could to sit in the exact same place for seven hours.

Nobody had really told her the details of this, only when she needed to be at the airbase and where she was headed. It was normal, and before now she hadn’t cared if she didn’t have details to give her family because it didn’t matter if they knew where she was. But now, with Serena in the picture, she wanted to be able to give her girlfriend the precise map co-ordinates of where she would be sleeping every night.

Two years had let her forget the anxiety she was currently sensing, the concern that the person beside her could be on the table tomorrow or that they might be operating on her. She had thought she remembered every intricacy of war, but the worst parts had managed to slip to the back of her mind.

“Wolfe, it’s good to have you with us,” She turned her head to see Staines with a friendly smile, sat in his fatigues. “There’s no one else I would rather have to help me head up this thing.”

“Pleasure to be of service, Sir,” Bernie replied, glancing down at her own dress and realising she had slipped into her khakis without thinking anything of it. She’d fallen so easily back into this life.

The first thing she noticed when they landed in Surobi was the heat. That was one thing she had never managed to forget, always grateful for the British chill because nothing could compare to feeling cold after spending months sweating buckets.

She knew that she wouldn’t get to feel genuinely cold for six months now, she could try and make the most of a shower, but it wasn’t the same as real British weather.

The hot evening sun was beating down as they alighted the plane and with the weight of her rucksack on her back, she questioned whether she was cut out for this job anymore. Last time, she had been fifteen pounds lighter and it hadn’t been over a month since she last went to the gym.

“Wolfe, end of the hall, Lieutenant-Colonel has its perks, bunk to yourself,” some nameless officer drawled as the new arrivals passed him, reeling off more bunk assignments to the rest of the strangers who had been on Bernie’s flight.

Marching down the hall, Bernie let herself into the small room and was pleased to see how tidy it had been left by its last inhabitant. There was a small bed, a chest at the foot of it, and a tiny desk that looked ready to break in two. It was nice though, it mirrored every bunk she’d ever stayed in, though with the pair to each piece of furniture missing. This room, or at least a room almost identical to this in all but location, had been her portable home for months and months of deployments.

Dropping her rucksack down beside her, crossing to sit on the freshly-made bed, Bernie realised that this didn’t have to be home anymore. Marcus’ house had never been home, the only reason she ever got excited to go back was to see the kids, but now she had something to head back to. A physical place filled with people she loved that was still going to be there when she got back.

This wasn’t home anymore, but it didn’t need to be.

She didn’t give herself time to be sad. Unpacked what she needed to as quickly as possible, forced herself to eat a granola bar and headed down to the hospital to report for duty.

“You aren’t supposed to be on duty until tomorrow, Lieutenant-Colonel Wolfe. Go and settle in.” General Staines ordered, dismissing Bernie even before she had opened her mouth to speak.

“All due respect, Sir. I would rather busy myself right now than spend my evening feeling homesick,” she reasoned, met with an understanding nod from her commanding officer before she busied herself with meeting the team.

She busied herself with caring for the patients, with the men who had all been injured fighting for something they believed in. She had certainly missed that; treating people that she respected so highly, rather than whomever demanded her aid.

Three hours into her first shift, they lose their first man. 26 years old, caught by some stray gunfire of a small group passing through, the only man injured, a perforated liver finished him before they could even get him into surgery. He bled out.

 The deaths come fast in the field. There are no second chances, there’s no calling in specialists, there’s no using ten units of blood to keep someone going in the hopes they might turn around. Taking risks that might cost the hospital money or supplies are off the table; taking risks that might cost lives are entirely within their reach.

Ironically, there’s very little protocol. In the military, you’d think there’d be a precise way to act in every situation, but ultimately, it boils down to this: _Save that life, don’t use too many resources, don’t waste too much time._

“Major Wolfe?” Her head snapped up at her name, distracting her from the chart in her hand. A flash of red hair, freckled cheeks, a friendly grin.

“Lucy Piper! How are you, Lieutenant?” Bernie beamed at the sight of the younger woman, a familiar face from tours past. “And it’s Lieutenant-Colonel now.”

“Of course, and it’s Captain now, Ma’am. I was promoted last year after I made the New Years Honours,” she casually interjected, a hint of pride in her expression.

Wordlessly, Bernie pursed her lips and outstretched a hand, firmly taking the young captain’s in her own. She remembered why she had needed to come back now, why nothing had felt finished, because there were moments like this among all the grief and the gunfire.

 _28 and already a Captain, I really do train the best._ There was a blooming pride in Bernie as she watched her once young protégé hurry off to take charge of the incoming trauma. It made her think of her kids, and she knew that even from 3500 miles away, they would both be making her proud too.

_183 nights to home._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! i'm throwing this up a day early because im staying with my parents for a couple of days and i don't know if i'll have time to do it tomorrow ! update on saturday ! hope you're enjoying !

For the first two weeks, Serena coped marvelously. She barely even allowed herself to think about the fact that Bernie was gone, and her life went on almost as normal, apart from the rather significant absence.  

  
When people asked her where Bernie was, she would tell them the truth and she would remain calm, emphasising to both them and herself that it was only six months.

  
“Auntie Serena! You’re home on time!” Jason had exclaimed on a Thursday evening as she stepped through the front door and slung her jacket over the banister. That was when it really hit her.

  
“Yes, Jason! Dinner will be 45 minutes!” She called back up the stairs as she felt her legs give way underneath her and had to lean against the wall. Thursday was Albies’ night for the entire ward, and she hadn’t even thought to go because Bernie hadn’t been there to remind her.

  
Morven and the boys would be sat in the pub wondering if she got stuck late at work, worrying about why she wasn’t there, and they were probably going to text her asking if she was coming along any minute now. Somehow, this was what really kicked her in the teeth. Bernie was gone.

  
She lets the tears fall silently, simply to get them out of her system. Worse than crying alone would be bursting into tears at the dinner table and having to explain it to Jason.   
“Pull yourself together, Campbell,” she whispered to herself. It reminded her of the last time she had said those words, reminded her that there was the promise of Bernie coming back to her this time.

  
 _After Kyiv, she could get through anything._ That’s what she had told herself though she was doubting in more and more each day.

  
Focusing on preparing dinner, Serena wondered whether Shiraz might help the situation. Somehow, she doubted it would. Despite everything, she had let her dearest and most loyal friend become associated with something else, and now a glass of red would make her think of Bernie more than it could make her forget the blonde.

  
“I think those potatoes are mashed enough, Auntie Serena,” Jason suggested tentatively, drawing her from her thoughts and back into the kitchen where she had completely destroyed the poor vegetables.

  
Exhaling heavily, she pushed all thoughts of the marvelous Ms Wolfe to the back of her head and tried to pay better attention to cooking. She’d told Jason that there would six months of properly cooked meals for him without Bernie there to distract the chef.

  
As she placed the two dishes in their spots on the kitchen table, she tried to ignore the way her head had turned to go and grab the third. She tells herself not to notice the way her hand occupies itself with a splinter in the table where normally it would be held by another. She absolutely refuses to let herself think about the fact that she snatches the salt from the centre of the table, putting it out of reach of an absent guest.

  
“Why are you washing the dishes, Auntie Serena?” Jason questions, observing Serena’s swift move to the sink once she had finished eating.

  
“I’m sorry, Jason. Would you rather I waited for the maid to do it?” Her tone made evident that sarcasm that might otherwise have been missed as she started to wash the cutlery.

  
“I’ve told you that your extremely dry sense of humour isn’t compatible with me, Auntie Serena. I was merely referring to the fact that this is the first time in over a year that you haven’t left it until the next morning, or at least until after I’ve gone to bed.”

  
Serena is fully aware he is right. Every night she tells herself that she will do it straight away, and every night she is dragged by Bernie into the living room to drink wine and watch terrible evening TV because she doesn’t have the motive to argue with her. She would never let herself admit it, though.

  
“Hoping for an early night, if it’s alright with you. Want to get this done before I turn in,” she mumbles as she scrubs at a saucepan far more harshly than necessary.

  
Jason appears satisfied with her answer, excuses himself to watch Countdown, leaves her alone. She bites back the urge to ask Bernie to help her, reminds herself for the fiftieth time today that Bernie isn’t here. Who knew the world was so full of tripwires trying to ruin your day by knocking just the wrong thought into the forefront of your mind.

  
As she rinses the soap of her hands, she wonders how she ever thought this would be easy. How she convinced that Bernie was so little of her life that it was merely a vow to celibacy for six months? No sex for six months was an arduous but survivable challenge, but she had not signed up for this. She wanted to be loved and held and kissed and laughed with, she hadn’t realised that she’d been sacrificing all of that too. Yet here she stood, in the kitchen on a Thursday evening in a dreary silence that would normally be filled with wine-fuelled conversation, or with the honk of Bernie laughing at something Jason has said.

  
As she padded up to her bedroom, a casual goodnight to Jason on the way past the living room door, she wondered how Marcus had coped with it. How could a man of such weak will handle this kind of suffering? Perhaps, he didn’t know what he was missing, never realised the magnificence he was blessed to encounter. Ignorance is bliss, and right now, Serena would’ve paid to be absolutely clueless for a few hours.

  
The empty space in the bed beside her was the worst. She had grown used to sleeping alone over the years, even between the infrequent night shifts that Bernie was dragged in for, but this sense of constancy was another type of empty. The bed was not merely empty right now, it was empty for the foreseeable future in a way that made its presence seem wholly unnecessary.

  
_After all, what was a bed without someone to sleep in it?_


	8. Chapter 8

Things had been too busy for Bernie to even think about being sad. Her days were filled with responsibility and routine, and by the time she got to her bunk, she was ready to collapse.

Surobi was not a place for soul-searching, was not a place to question the world, was not a place to think of yourself. She had been grateful for that, especially the first time around when all she’d wanted to do was bury herself in her work and pretend she couldn’t wait to go home and see her husband.

She glanced at the clock: 1:43am. She was supposed to turn in at midnight, leave it to the night staff to keep things going while she rested but she wasn’t tired enough yet. Her body had slipped easily back into the constraints of an eighteen-hour day, and she found that anything less left her buzzing with surplus adrenaline she couldn’t get rid of. She would stay here, until her body caught up to the fact she should be tired by now.

“You’re in again at 6. Go get some sleep, Wolfe, that’s an order.” It had come out softer than Staines had intended, almost parental as he patted her on the back and kept his eyes trailing her form as she sluggishly made her way towards her room.

As she flopped down onto her bunk, she took inventory of the small, bare room and realised just how sad it was that she had ever called this home.

She wanted to sleep. She shut her eyes and tried to clear her mind, no interest in undressing, it may give her mind a moment to wander. Her mind didn’t need a moment, it was already taking a long walk down a road that led in only one direction: Serena.

“Sleep, Wolfe!” Her own demand filled her ears and wondered why she couldn’t obey.

These nights were warm and the air was thick, and all she could think of was the way that Serena would kick off the covers and spend the entire night fidgeting to get cool. These were the only nights when the brunette wouldn’t wrap herself around Bernie’s body and cling to her like a limpet.

The heat made the absence of Serena’s firm hold a little more bearable, or at the very least, a little more normal.

She wondered how life at home was, if they were coping without her, if her absence had even been noticed. Bernie doubted that the ward would have noticed much change at all, beyond a grumblier Serena than usual, but she liked to think that Jason would be missing her, that Dom would be, that Cameron would be.

It was hard to think about. She had grown so used to repressing and God, how she wished she could now. But something about this night, 2am in an Afghani field hospital with nobody to tell her to be quiet, forced her to give her mind some space to wander.

Bernie Wolfe stared at the ceiling and thought about the people she loved, where they were right now. Jason would be firmly and fully asleep in his bed, halfway through his third sleep cycle. Cameron would _hopefully_ be doing the same, ready for a shift tomorrow. Charlotte would be out until all hours partying, enjoying university life in a way only she knew how to.

Serena would be in bed, she hoped…or at least, passed out on the sofa after watching late night television. As long as she was still going home at night, Bernie had no need to worry, because she had seen Serena in those weeks where she would live out of an on-call room and forget she had a life outside of work.

Her eyes began to tear up at the thought of her wonderful partner, at her wits end over nothing of significance because worrying is a means of distraction. If there is anything in this world that Serena Campbell has a monopoly on, it’s emotional procrastination, which prior to meeting her, Bernie had presumed she held the record for.

Why did her brain refuse to stop functioning quite so eagerly? When would it give her a bloody break? Didn’t she deserve that? Then again, it had served her well in her denial for weeks now, it had only been a matter of time and she knew it.

“Wolfe, snap out of it,” she barked at herself, turning onto her side and readjusting her position before forcefully pressing her eyes shut. The wetness of her eyes threatened to drop, through her lashes and across her cheekbones, she tried to dry them with sheer willpower but knew it was a battle lost.

A lone droplet rose up the curve of her nose and then back down the other side, she sniffed decidedly, tightened her jaw, and told herself once more: 157 days until forever begins.

It was difficult to comprehend that this truly was the last tour. Every time she had finished, she had headed back home with the knowledge that she would be coming back again. When the IED hit, and she was shipped back to England, she had gone with every intention of returning and eventually, she had.

Even more remarkable, this was the first time she didn’t want. The first time she truly wanted to go back and wanted to never think about Afghanistan ever again. She had loved her kids, but she had known that the domestic life was not one which suited her, and it still wasn’t. Somehow, she had found the balance, perhaps life would’ve been easier if she had identified sooner the point at which work and home could co-exist.

She missed home. She wanted to be at home, right this second. She wished she had Serena in her arms and the promise of an 8am shift on _her_ ward in the morning.

Exhaustion finally began to wash over her and her thoughts started to clear. Sleep washed over her and let her feel, for a short while, that everything was perfectly fine. Soon, she would wake and be reminded that she is not where she belongs, not quite yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Jason had asked her for the address on a Tuesday morning. He had handed her a mug of tea which she almost dropped at the mention of Bernie’s name so early in the morning.

It had been at least three days since the last mention of her. That didn’t mean Serena hadn’t thought of her, of course she had, she never went more than a few hours without doing that, but it was a different experience to be reminded of her real-life existence.

She sipped at her tea as she mulled over the question, heard Jason clear his throat, realised she was taking too long, nodded.

“Of course, Jason. I know she wrote it down somewhere before she left, I’ll find it for you once I get home from work, alright?” She didn’t hear Jason’s response, simply presumed it was agreement, prepared to leave.

Work sped by far too fast.  9 hours felt like two. Everything was moving far too quickly.

Suddenly she was back in the kitchen, drinking a freshly made cup of tea and flicking through various envelopes and notes and shopping lists that sat in a box of ‘important things that might be needed again’.

She found it. Written on the back of a supermarket receipt. Contact address for Lieutenant-Colonel Berenice Wolfe. In the messy handwriting of her beloved, letters squashed together messily, there it was.

“Jason! I have the address you needed!” Serena called through to the living room, thumbing the corner of the receipt and contemplating the idea of writing her own letter, wondering if it might help.

Through the kitchen door came an enthusiastic and eager Jason, hand reaching for the receipt and reading over it to check it was legible. He nodded perfunctorily and turned to leave again.

 _Radio silence, is that what you want, Serena? Don’t you remember how hard things were last time? Is it worth that all over again?_ The questions stacked up in her head and she longed for the counterbalance of just one answer. It would be nice for someone else to tell her what she should do rather than presuming she wanted to make her own decisions.

Bernie would tell her to stop overanalysing if she was here. But she wasn’t, and that was excuse enough not to. Instead she let her mind mull over everything she had done so far, every decision she had made, and questioned whether it had made the struggle tougher or easier.

Would words help, or would they hinder?

Her head was overflowing with words – the good, the bad, and the ugly – and they needed somewhere to go. She had to put them on a page, even if that page took a one-way trip into the recycling bin, never to be seen again.

Taking up an old shopping list from the pile and flipping it over, she grabbed the biro which remained stuck to the fridge door and began to write.

The thoughts fell out of her like they were made of air, drifting out of her head without any real substance, and collapsing onto the paper in no real semblance of meaning. She poured every ounce of herself onto the sheet and let it gather there, letters upon letters until there was no more space and she needed more paper.

She grabbed another piece. Turned it over. Started to write.

_I love you. I miss you. I hate you for leaving. I told you I was happy to let you go. I wanted you to stay though. It hurt me. I know it’s hurting you. I wish you were here. I hope you feel as dreadful as I do. I bet you’re not looking after yourself._

Fazing out, letting herself melt into the process of hyperexpression, she stopped concentrating.

“Auntie Serena!” The voice snapped her back to reality, twenty minutes and fourteen shopping lists later.  “You need to start dinner, or it won’t be ready by 7’oclock.”

“Right. I’ll sort it, Jason. You go and finish your programme,” she forced out, standing up and gathering up the sheets as though ashamed, tucking them into the junk drawer that nobody dared to open.

 Dinner tasted bland. Her wine tasted of nothing at all. The ice cream she forced herself to stomach after Jason had gone to bed tasted even plainer. She gave up on that, knew food wasn’t the distraction that she needed.

Today wasn’t for eating her feelings or for ignoring them. It was forcing them out of herself and into a place where she could pretend they weren’t hers to handle.

She curled up on the sofa with a notepad and a pen, and she wrote. Put every thought she could conjure down in ink and let it dry, let it stop being something worth thinking about and become something she could shove in a box until it became relevant.

_I thought pretending this was nothing important would help. I imagined I could force myself to treat each day as if you were coming home tomorrow. But I know you aren’t. I know denial isn’t going to work and that I need to let myself feel this._

_What if you don’t come back? What if me pretending this isn’t happening means that I’m even less prepared for that? What if you die and I spent months pretending you were safe and sound? What if._

Crying wasn’t on the agenda. Letting herself break down was something else entirely, something she wasn’t yet ready to face. Her lip trembled, and her throat felt tight, but no tears fell.

The clock on the mantel announced midnight and she dropped the pen, shoved the notepad to the bottle of the pile on the coffee table, and rose. Sleep would give her refuge from these thoughts for a short while.

She wouldn’t ask Jason for the address. She wouldn’t force Bernie to hear these words and hold them in her heart. She wouldn’t let herself send her struggles halfway across the world to add to Bernie’s load. She couldn’t do that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everyone has a wonderful christmas !! i will be curled up on my own writing for the day !

Bernie had walked in to find a white envelope at the foot of the bed. She had picked it up, analysed the handwriting, realised she recognised it from somewhere, and torn open the damn thing.

 _Dear Auntie Bernie._ Of course, it was Jason. Who else would’ve thought to write to her?

It was refreshing to read his words, to be reminded that there was life beyond these walls, and that they were doing far more exciting things than she. He told her of his work, and of his friends, and of his girlfriend, and of Serena.

 _Auntie Serena misses you terribly,_ he wrote, _though she’d never want me to tell you that._

Bernie sat and drank in every word, wondered whether she would receive another or whether this was the extent of Jason’s generosities. Perhaps she would reply. Something short and sweet, not long enough to really tell him anything but enough to let him know that she really was grateful for the letter.

It was so thoughtful of him to write to her. She hadn’t asked for it, hadn’t even expected it really but nevertheless, he had gone above and beyond to remind her that she had a home to go back to.

She did have a home, and it amounted to more than a person, though Serena was a big part of it. Home was Serena, but it was also Jason and Cam, it was Holby City Hospital, it was having a usual at Albie’s. More than anything, it was living your life with the underlying intention of returning there whether it be next week or next year.

_Everything’s going normally here. Nothing’s changed._

It was bizarre, to think that Holby was still functioning just as it had before she left, before she came, before she even knew of its existence. Things would continue to run smoothly, she wasn’t egotistical enough to believe she had any sort of an effect.

And still, she was kept informed, she remained considered, how utterly kind. She took up some paper and a pen and began to scribble down a response in her messy hand.

 _Dear Jason,_ she began. What should she say? What was there to tell him?

She said that she missed home. She said that things were normal here. She said she missed fish and chips on a Friday. She said that she’d be back soon.

Was she supposed to include something for Serena? He’d mentioned her in the letter so obviously he wanted her to think about it, but did she have the nerve? It was hard to understand what Serena wanted, ever. Before leaving, they had promised to keep in touch, but it had been a month and there had been nothing.

She left it. Decided that Serena ought to take the lead. Serena usually took the lead.

The lines were practically filling themselves. She went on about how boring things were, about how much she couldn’t wait to be back, about every little thing that she would tell him if she was speaking to him in the flesh. A full side of words, that was enough, she signed it off and folded it over.

She folded it into her pocket, a silent reminder to go and get an envelope and stamp from the post room before the end of the day. It would be best to go before her shift, not send Jason a letter covered in bloody fingerprints, but she wasn’t sure she’d have the time.

It frustrated her to not be sure of everything and anything. Control was something she savoured, something that she tried to keep a tight grasp on when she could, but the field was not a place in which to organise yourself quite so thoroughly.

“Lieutenant-General Wolfe, you’re needed in the infirmary. I was told to relay its urgency to you,” a voice broke through the thoughtful silence of the room.

She responded with a sharp nod. She rose to her feet and smoothed down her cargo pants before heading for the door. She passed the unfamiliar face that had summoned her and headed for her work.

For the rest of the day, the letter weighed on her mind. She felt it in her pocket occasionally and was reminded all over again of the olive branch that had been stretched across the entirety of Europe. The urge to jump on a plane right this moment hadn’t been this strong since the moment she had landed.

There would always be a postage stamp between her and her home. Not _always_ , but it certainly felt that way right now.

When she finally finished for the day and made her way over to the post room, she drew the letter from her pocket to find it crumpled and creased, just as she had expected. She asked for a single stamp and an envelope, took them from the young woman rifling through a pile of post, and smiled gratefully.

_Give your Auntie Serena all my love._

She scrawled it messily on the back of the paper, making use of the pen which had laid dormant in her breast pocket since before she could remember. She immediately doubted her decision but shoved it in the envelope, sealed and stamped it before she could second-guess herself.

The letter was in someone else’s hands, already out of her jurisdiction the second that she handed it over. She walked to her room with the thought of the letter, arriving at the house… _their_ house.

 _Stop being such a coward,_ she told herself. It was only a sentence, barely even that. If it was important then it was that, but if it wasn’t then it didn’t matter in the slightest. She convinced herself of its insignificance quite decidedly.

 _Just a letter, bound to get shoved in the important box and forgotten about almost as soon as it arrives._ And Jason’s letter had meant precisely nothing to her too. The decision to Sellotape it to her wall was merely a decision to combat the hideous bareness of her bunk.


	11. Chapter 11

The day had dragged on for what felt like forever. It was 8:26pm and Serena was determined to escape before another patient arrived and kept her here for the night.

She had been here since 6:30 this morning and Pulses had been closed. She had lost a 22-year-old woman and spent twenty minutes telling herself that Ellie was absolutely fine. She had been summoned to Hanssen’s office tomorrow for some reason unbeknownst to her. Today really had not been her day.

Making for the stairs, she got her way through the doors and started down them. At the sight of the evening cast across Holby, she paused at the window and watched for just a minute.

Jason would be waiting at home, he’d taken the early shift and would likely be tucking into a microwave meal, having insisted he couldn’t wait that long for dinner or he wouldn’t sleep well. He had taken Bernie’s departure well enough, rationalising the fact that it was only temporary and that six months wasn’t very long at all in the grand scheme of things.

“Ms Campbell?” A voice drew Serena from her thoughts and she berated her decision in her mind, should’ve run while she had the chance. “Everything okay? You’ve got that ‘when will my husband return from war’ look. Nothing’s wrong is it?”

Serena arched an eyebrow at the young F2, waiting for the penny to drop.

“Oh my God! I am so sorry, Ms Campbell! I didn’t mean _that,_ it’s a meme…from the internet, I- I’m so sorry!” Jasmine scuttled back up the stairs, falling over herself to get away from her own embarrassment and mumbling her apologies as she went.

Smirking slightly at the effect she had, the way she managed to have that effect on just about everybody…even Jac Naylor’s sister, even after all this time. It entertained her to have such power when she had no desire to exert it upon anybody.

Serena made her way down the stairs, coming out into Pulses to find it buzzing with people. She made her exit swiftly, moving out of the view of those inside before extracting the shabby old pack of Marlboro from her bag and setting one between her lips.

She shouldn’t. She wouldn’t, not normally. But after the day she’s had, she needs a little bit of Wolfe in her lungs. Even as she lights the cigarette, she knows her throat won’t thank her in the morning, but she has never needed the taste of tobacco more than in this moment.

“Tut tut, wait ‘til I tell Ms Wolfe about this,” Ric teased as he approached, a grin creeping across his face as he came close and pressed a kiss against Serena’s cheek. “Bad day?”

“You could say that,” she answered with a scoff, taking in a deep breath of smoke and holding it in her lungs as though the feeling of running out of air, might suffocate her the same way Bernie’s arms can after a day like this.

“Albies’?” Ric suggested sympathetically, watching as she dropped the cigarette, only half-smoked, to the curb.

“I should get back to Jason, he’ll be worrying otherwise,” Serena admitted as she shoved the pack back into the bag, and drew her lip between her teeth. “Maybe one wouldn’t hurt though, he can always call.”

Ric smiled at how easily she’d been persuaded, though really, he knew that must have meant her day went even worse than his.

They walk in silence to the bar across the street. The both of them know that this is a conversation that must be made easier with alcohol. To imagine that they could expose their own emotions without the aid of a tall glass of something, is to imagine that these are not doctors, not people trained and practised in the art of burying their feelings.

Serena heads for her seat, the one which has been hers almost since her first week at this hospital. She does not pause to glance at the empty space beside it, does not allow herself to dwell upon the absence of her drinking buddy, and rather busies herself with texting Jason to let him know she won’t be home just yet.

“A large Shiraz for the lady,” Ric announces and hands the full glass to Serena and takes the seat beside her, filling a space within which he does not suitably fit. “Do I need to make somebody’s life hell or is there no particular reason behind today’s display of moping?”

“If you’re going to go out of your way to make her life hell, you may as well take me with you and that will fix things just as quickly,” she reasons, sipping at her wine and wondering how she failed to imagine just how difficult this would feel.

“Ah, getting second thoughts about letting her go?” His tone was sympathetic, as he knew all too well the suffering Serena had endured to be in this position at all. “Mad at her for not being here?”

Serena contemplated that for a moment, was she mad? Was she entitled to be mad?

“Not mad, just…frustrated. So many little things went wrong today that I would go home and moan about to her, but she isn’t there, and that means that the little things just pile up because I have no one to complain to. It feels petty, whining about something so minor when she’s out there risking her life.” Serena wonders if Bernie has moments like these, where something goes badly and she wishes she could crawl into bed and tell Serena all about them, but Bernie never was one to complain.

Ric knocks back the last of his whiskey, looks at Serena and questions to himself how she had grown so much, from that brash, talkative woman who had stumbled onto Keller all those years ago.

“You’re allowed to miss her. I know you keep telling yourself that it’s pointless and it’s just a waste of time to busy yourself with emotions that have no effect upon anything, but you have to let yourself miss her.”

 _I wasn’t doing a good job of stopping myself anyway,_ Serena thought.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't kill me for bringing her back, i PROMISE nothing's going to happen between them OKAY

It had been a busy week. There had been two attacks, both of which has resulted in more casualties than the hospital was equipped for. The team was stretched beyond capacity and Bernie couldn’t remembered the last time she slept for more than thirty minutes.

Half a dozen individuals were being flown in from Rubhar this afternoon and that was hopefully going to lighten the load. They just had to drag themselves through the next six hours first.

“Lieutenant- Wolfe, you’re needed at the compound gates, to approve the entry of the new arrivals.” Richardson stated simply, he was a quiet man who didn’t socialise much and who kept himself to himself.

“Isn’t General Staines supposed to approve their admission himself, sir?” She questioned, hands and eyes focused on the job of redressing a nasty machete wound.

“He had to leave the compound, meeting a supply plane that couldn’t touch down this close to the city he said. He ordered that you be the one to sign the paperwork, ma’am.” Exhaling, she summoned a colleague to finish her work before trailing after Richardson.

The walk down to the gates was short, and the air was beginning to cool as summer started to wane. From the other side of the yard, she could see 8 figures, two of which were yielding guns.

“All their transfer paperwork’s been checked over and everything is in order I presume?” She asked as she approached the group and extended her hand for the pen and clipboard. The man she believed was called Stanley gave her a sharp nod and he handed over the paperwork.

Scrawling her signature, followed by the date and – after a quick glance at her watch – the time, she passed back the clipboard and turned to return to her work.

 _As if_ she had to be dragged away from real medicine for something so menial. She had thought that taking a break from the NHS would give her a break from discharge and consent forms. Even in the middle of a warzone, there was time for officiality.

“Major Wolfe!” the voice sounded familiar, at first she had thought it was…but she knew it wasn’t. Turning her head at the summons, ready to remind whichever subordinate it was of her promotion, she thought the sun had got to her…or the sleep deprivation. “Thought you’d hung up your army boots in search of marital bliss…”

“Alex,” Bernie breathed out, barely able to make a noise.

“So you haven’t forgotten me entirely, Bern’,” Alex said, a downtrodden tone to her voice as though she had been expecting something more than this.

Without saying another word, Bernie stalked off into the shade with Alex following closely behind her, drawing them both from the curious eyes of those watching the scene unfold.

“Alex, I thought you’d retired. Guessed you’d retired, I suppose, but what are you doing _here?_ I never imagined I’d see you again,” Bernie reeled, trying to process exactly how they had arrived at this moment.

“Hoped. You _hoped_ you never see me again.” Alex still had that expression on her face that somewhat resembled a kicked puppy. “I’m here because this is my job, because I was summoned here, because this is where I belong. The bigger question is what _you_ are doing here?”

Bernie scoffed at that, she didn’t really have an answer. There wasn’t any true reason for her be here besides the fact that she had been asked. Getting into this with Alex, out here in the place that they still considered _theirs,_ was going to be messy.

“I, uh, we both have work to do. You need to get yourself settled. Why don’t we talk tonight? Whiskey in the inventory bay, for old times’ sake?”

They parted with no more words, as though Alex had been dismissed by her superior and was following orders. The rest of the day went relatively smoothly, or at least what they called _smooth_ on the front line. It wasn’t until 10pm rolled around that things took a rocky turn.

“Okay, I’ll start with your first question. I’m here because Staines asked me to come back, as a favour, one last tour and he’d approve my promotion. I always wanted to make Lieutenant-Colonel, you know that. It was a no-brainer, six months and then finished with the RAMC forever.”

Alex looked surprised, she slumped against the medical cabinets and slid down to sit on the cool floor.

“A no-brainer? What about the life you’ve built for yourself back home? What about Marcus and the kids? It was never a no-brainer before, and now suddenly you’re taking up commissions without thinking about it!” The room was very suddenly heated and Bernie made sure to stay close to the door, an exit plan from the aggression that threatened to fester.

“Marcus has been out of the picture for a very long time now, I haven’t seen him in years. The kids are adults, they don’t care if I got away for six months as long as I come back in one piece. I have far less commitments now than I did back then, and I have people who support my decisions in my life now.” Bernie doesn’t know whether to bring up Serena, doesn’t know whether it will make Alex angrier at the fact that even though she came back to the military, even though she left Marcus, Bernie never bothered to call her.

In the moonlight, it is hard to read Alex’s face between the shadows cast upon it. There is something between pride and hurt on her face but Bernie is unsure which.

“I’m happy for you. I know it’s hard to believe that after the way we left things, I could ever be happy for you, but I am…truly.” Alex lets a smile stretch her lips at that, and Bernie relaxes against the wall slightly. “So you built yourself the perfect life, and you still end up back in the field. I guess we’re a sort, soldiers, never really settled anywhere because we’re always waiting to be needed somewhere else. It’s a curse this job, despite all its blessings.”

Bernie sniggers at that, remembers herself thinking the exact same thing on the plane over here all those weeks ago.

“I’ve only got four months left, then I’m gone for good, never coming back. And I mean it this time, I’ve promised it to myself, and to many people I care about to reconsider.”

She had never anticipated that speaking to Alex again would be this easy, this calm, but somehow they both know that they are different people now and they are not the people who fought on Darwin Ward about what they wanted.

They have new wants now. They know what they want and what they need, and the both of them are fully aware that it in no way consists of each other.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have 4 deadlines for monday and i have yet to write saturday's chapter so i don't know if it will be up on time, so sorry about that

It was just a simple greasy spoon, she’d never been there before and she was certain that if there was any risk of being seen, Elinor would’ve refused to attend. They had decided upon somewhere quiet, easy, because it was far too likely that they’d bump into someone they know in a nicer place.

“Mum,” Elinor greeted as she entered the café and dropped her bag to the floor, leaning over and pecking her mother’s cheek customarily before plopping down lightly into the chair. “How’s things?”

“Things are the same as they always are, Ellie. You’re the one with the exciting life, so let’s talk about you,” her mother enthused as she sipped at her cup of coffee, wondering how on Earth they had managed to ruin something so basic.

Elinor cleared her throat, seemed to look around for something to discuss besides herself. She was hiding something, and she knew that in that moment, she’d already given herself away. Elinor Campbell was about to be slaughtered.

“Well, at uni, we’re currently planning our placements. Our tutors organise us a six-month internship at the end of the course so that we aren’t without work from the offset, quite kind of them really. I’m just in the process of deciding where I’ll go for mine now.”

The waitress took this opportune silence as a reason to come over and ask if they’d like to order anything, mother and daughter ordered toast, not trusting the place not to kill them with anything more complex.

“That’s brilliant, Ellie! So where are you looking at? With that look on your face, I’m guessing it’s somewhere out of the way, London perhaps? You know I’ll support you in this, we’ve been through so much and I’m not going to let you moving a few miles be the ruin of us,” Serena uttered, thinking back to the many disagreements they had had over the years about Elinor’s flitting and financially unstable passions. “Tell me all about it!”

“Okay, erm…” Elinor hesitated, still cautious because she knew that her mother wouldn’t approve of this, even if she said she would. “Well, you see it was Bernie, really. She got me thinking that maybe I’d like to get into a different field, rather than just the boring stuff I’ve been doing over the past few months. I’ve found a humanitarian organisation working in Sudan, and they’ve said they’re willing to take me on as long as I’m willing to pull my own weight…I can report on the effect of the war there, on civilian life.”

“Elinor. Did I or did I not just here you say Sudan? Because I swear, Elinor Elizabeth Campbell, that if you are not joking right now, I am going to lock you in your bedroom for the rest of your life!” Serena exclaimed, eyes focused on Ellie’s now cowering frame.

“Mum! You always told me to do something worthwhile with my life and now I’ve figured it out. What happened to supporting me?”

Elinor knew that her mother was never going to be behind this, she had been planning to avoid the question until the very last minute and then use the excuse that she’d already committed and couldn’t back out. She had known this conversation was going to come eventually and she had known that it was going to result in a lot of raised voices.

Serena glanced down at her hands, at the emptiness of them where usually she would’ve reached for Bernie’s by now and be grasping it. She detected the emptiness in the seat beside her and was reminded precisely why she couldn’t let her only daughter do this.

“I will not let you run off to a warzone when I’m already waiting for Bernie to get back from one. I can’t spend the rest of my life worrying that both of you might be dead, I can’t lose both of you and I refuse to. You can’t do that, Elinor, and you know you can’t. I can’t have nobody here to keep me sane, and I’m sorry if that halts your plans but I will not watch you go off to get shot at by strangers when I’ve already got someone else to worry about.”

  Even Elinor felt a little guilty, and she was not a woman built for remorse at the best of times. She knew that Serena was under a lot of pressure with Bernie gone, she had noticed it every time they had seen each other since Bernie had flown out, but she hadn’t allowed herself to really comprehend how much of an effect it was having.

 _Christ, Berenice, why aren’t you here right now?_ Serena asked for the hundredth time this week and wondered when she had lost the ability to cope independently. Even when Bernie had been here, she had been perfectly capable of dealing with things like this alone, but suddenly, in her absence, she was needed all the more.

“I know you miss her, Mum, that’s okay. And I wouldn’t be leaving until June anyway, we can discuss it once Bernie gets back, maybe…” her daughter’s tone had softened almost instantly.

The two of them ate their brunch in a comfortable quiet, the occasional question about Jason or work or Ellie’s new (now old) boyfriend. It was hard to believe that these were the same women who had been at each other’s throats for ten years, when they could keep up this air of amicability so well.

Serena had a shift starting at 2pm, and Elinor had to get back to university for lectures tomorrow. The pair led busy lives, and alas they made the time for each other more now than when they had lived in the same house. As she observed the way her daughter had matured, Serena was almost tempted to suggest she give Charlotte a few lessons in being a daughter.

“So, how long’s left now anyway? Can’t be more than a few weeks, right?” Elinor asked casually, mainly for the purpose of knowing when it was safe to bring up Sudan again.

“102 nights until she is back here for good, after which she will never be leaving Holby again if I’ve got anything to do with it,” Serena breathed out, knowing the number without even having to think about it. It was written on the calendar on the fridge.

  _It will be okay, it will all work out, the world must keep turning,_ Serena told herself as she drank down the last of her terrible coffee.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is both quite short and quite boring, i had to write it really quick just so i could get this up since i have so much work to get done over the weekend, really sorry about the quality of this, just wanted to give you guys something. also, the idea of Berena becoming fully official in November isn't really canon compliant considering Bernie got back from Ukraine in September, but we know lil miss commitment-phobe Wolfe would have waited at least a little while. idk. let me know what you think xxx

She forced herself to pretend it was a normal day. In her mind, she was really struggling to stop thinking about how she should be spending this day 3500 miles away, but her body kept her fixed on her work.

It was their anniversary. Just another anniversary. Admittedly the first. But still, nothing even mildly exciting.

Serena would go to Albie’s after work for drinks and she would thank Jason for the card he had bought, and she would pretend her day was normal. It was only fair that Bernie did the same.

She’d sent flowers. It was the least she could do; even from the Afghani desert, Interflora wasn’t beyond her reach. She had sent flowers with a note and now she had to get on with her day, just as she knew Serena would.

“Wolfe, there were shots fired out on patrol this morning. One of our own’s down, you ready to take him?” It was Staines. She didn’t compute his voice, but he was the only one who still called her that.

She glanced up, nodded briskly and hurried through to the main floor where she was thrown headfirst into the hubbub of the late morning. All thoughts of madeira cake and vintage Shiraz were lost in the rush.

The guy was in bad shape. She hadn’t been given a name yet. He was unconscious on the table and until she did something about it, he was ‘nameless dying guy’, so she got to work.

 _Nameless dying guy_ bled out in theatre, and died namelessly. He would be identified soon enough. He could only be from the platoon that controlled the area surrounding the compound, he just wasn’t known by anybody there.

Someone would tell her at dinner, or at least she expected they would. People liked to talk about their day at dinner and it made little sense to her, especially when they all worked in the same place so they were learning precisely nothing new.

It was mind-numbing to hear someone recount their day when you had spent your day approximately twenty feet away from them, doing almost exactly the same thing. At home, she and Serena would talk about what they might have done today if they had different lives; a bizarre form of wish fulfilment.

“Everything okay, General?” It was Piper. She had a sweet smile on her face and had taken the seat opposite Bernie at the table. Taking a sip from her water, she awaited an answer.

“Absolutely fine, Captain. Just thinking of home,” Bernie mused as she picked at her rice and beans, forced herself to eat a little.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I should leave you to it.”

“Don’t mind me. A distraction’s never unwelcome on my radar, Piper. Repression is an art form which I have yet to master.” It was hard to admit that. She had spent an awfully long time being extremely good at it, but ever since Serena sauntered into her personal life, the head-on approach was the only one considered.

She listened to Piper recanting about her day and how thrilling it had all been, all the while with her mind filled with the thought of Serena. What was bizarre is that she didn’t think of her the way that she had in Ukraine; there was no finality to this.

The sense of permanence had been what ruined her then, the thought that she would never feel Serena’s lips against her, that she would never be able to admire the way that she drank Shiraz. This was both better and worse.

It was a blessing to know that this wasn’t forever, of course it was, but that only made her all the more impatient for this to be over, for her to go home.

“I’m sorry, I can see you’re distracted, I should go,” Piper muttered as she rose and hurried off before Bernie could stop her.

 _This is it then,_ she thought, _an evening of moping and feeling sorry for myself._

She forced the rest of her rice and beans down her throat, washed them down with the entire contents of her water flask. Finally, she could excuse herself to be emotionally bereft in peace, without the eyes of the entire team watching her.

Adding her cleared tray to the pile by the door, she stepped out into the corridor and made her way slowly to her bunk, eyes fixed upon her boots as she walked. She noticed the thin layer of dirt that covered them and was reminded of the way that Serena always fussed over her clothes, told her to take better care of them.

She told herself to stop. _No, Berenice, stop._ Her mind wanted to explore the sapphic angst fest that was being hosted in the back of her head, buried beneath layers of distraction. Her thoughts were the drunk friends that wandered off every time that you let go of them and couldn’t be trusted to keep themselves out of trouble, absolutely impossible to keep control of.

It had been 1096 days since she had stopped running from Serena. In this moment, on day 1096, all she wanted to do was run right back to her.

Tempting as it was, desertion wasn’t really an option. She was a woman of her word, a woman of duty, she had made a promise to be here for six months, she had told herself and everybody else that she could handle this, and she would.

She allowed her brain this time, gave it to her heart in the knowledge that somewhere deep inside she needed it. Tomorrow, she would get up and she would act like nothing had happened and she would cope like she always did. Nothing would change. This was an isolated incident, one that would not repeat itself.

97 days left. Almost halfway. She would make it through. She didn’t have a choice.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i kinda fell off the radar for a couple of weeks there. i've been drowning in work and didn't have the time to write anything but i'll do my best to get back on track and i hope you guys enjoy this one,, even if it filler !!

It was Evie’s birthday dinner. She had decided that now she was fifteen, she was going to be an adult and have a meal instead of a party because parties were ‘for kids and old people’, in her words.

Serena had been invited, which she was rather grateful for. It was only the family, Serena, Jason, and a couple of girls from school who were apparently ‘mature enough to belong there’.

“Happy Birthday, darling,” Serena offered with a smile as she handed over the gift she had bought. Evie took it gratefully, wrapped Serena in a tight hug and thanked her before setting to work opening it as thought there might be a time limit.

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much!” She exclaimed as she looked at the present. It was a human anatomy print, labelled and hopefully scientifically accurate, but in a sepia kind of tone that made it look chic enough to suit Evie’s teen preferences.

It was a struggle to buy for a teenager. She’d been useless when it came to Ellie and had, almost every year, resorted to taking her shopping instead.

“That’s so kind of you, Serena,” Fletch interjected, reaching across to the table to cover her hand with his own. She smiled over at him, saw the gratitude in his eyes, and she was biting back tears.

They’d been a blessing. Each and every one of them. On every lonely night when she might have gone home and devoured a bottle of Shiraz on her own, they had dragged her to Albies’ instead and had proved themselves to be a perfect distraction.

Bernie not being there was hard. There was no point in pretending that it wasn’t, but it wasn’t half as difficult as it might have been had she worked on Darwin or Keller, or even the ED, where they could never be as close as AAU had become.

Evie continued to open her presents, obviously eager to start eating but not wanting to wait for either.

It was admirable how she had become so focused on medicine at this young age. Almost half of her gifts were somehow medical, and Serena could only smirk at the sight.

 At 15, she’d been going through a Fleetwood Mac phase and that had been the running theme of her birthday gifts that year. In retrospect, it might have been Stevie Nicks that was the real point of interest.  Nevertheless, she was pleased to see that Evie was proving marginally better developed.

Spending time with the makeshift family that AAU had turned into was refreshing, it reminded her that there was life beyond the hospital’s walls. Now that Jason was on the payroll too, everything seemed to revolve around it and she found herself spending the majority of her week either within the hospital, or thinking about what she would do when she was next there.

The food arrived, and everybody ate their meals. The kids gorged themselves on pizza, it was a rare treat for Raf to allow them junk food; he really had slipped smoothly into the role of secondary parent over the past couple of years and Fletch had welcomed the help.

Serena had ordered onion soup, she had been craving the taste of proper French food ever since Bernie left, the taste made her think of every long weekend spent in Alsace and for the first time since Bernie left it was a pleasant sense of missing her, rather than the heartache that usually sat in her gut when she was reminded of her love’s absence.

“Did you want to come back to the house with us, Auntie Serena?” Mikey offered enthusiastically as he stuffed the last slice of his pizza sideways and forced it down.

“Maybe another day, Mikey. I have a lot of paperwork to do before work tomorrow and I can’t leave it until the last minute,” she replied. Really, she just wanted to curl up and go to bed for the night, it had felt like a long day and while she loved spending time with the kids, they could be rather exhausting for extended periods of time.

She popped the last bite of bread into her mouth and swallowed, washed it down with the dregs of her wine glass.

Fletch paid the bill and waited for Evie to pack up all of her presents into a few bags and get ready to head to the car. Everybody hugged and said their farewells, Evie’s friends were picked up by their parents, and Serena got into the driver’s seat of her car with Jason sat beside her.

He talked to her about the meal that he had eaten and how his broccoli had been slightly underdone, he filled the silence with his chatter the way that he always tended to and Serena was grateful. Silence gave her a stage for contemplation, for overthinking, for letting her mind wander into realms which she didn’t really want to explore right now.

It was hard work to keep her mind distracted at all times, but Jason did a good job of filling her head with matters other than Bernie when she needed him to. Going through this alone would’ve been a whole different story.

“Evie really seemed to like her present, Auntie Serena. It was a good find,” Jason offered as they turned into the driveway and parked up the car. “She really did look pleased with it.”

Serena smiled. She was glad to have done something right today. It felt like nothing was going particularly well at the moment and she had just been watching as her life slipped out of her control. Jason always did know how to challenge her pessimism with his all too blatant pragmatics.

Thank the lord for Jason on a day like today.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to throw up a couple more chapters to make up for the fact that i disappeared, and i'll write another one tomorrow.

There was a bang. She was inside the storage cupboard, grabbing some gauze when she heard it, undoubtedly a loud, foundation-shuddering bang.

Reaching for the gun on her hip, she withdrew it and dropped the gauze back into the open drawer. She opened the door without hesitation, pulled it open and stepped out, turned her head.

Flames licked up the walls, half the wall had been blown out, it was carnage. There was a ringing in her ears, she hadn’t noticed that until she realised how quiet everything seemed, saw the faces of her colleagues with their mouths wide open, silently demanding her assistance.

She hurried towards the first face she recognised and tried to understand what he was saying. _Start moving people. Critical treatment only._

Mind cloudy yet clear, Bernie rushed to the closest trolley and dragged it to the other side of the room, away from the flames. She moved them one by one, weaved in and out of her colleagues trying to kill the fire.

There had been no explanation. There had been no time for one as of yet. She would find out the details later, all that mattered right now was focusing on the task put in front of her.

She ignored the ringing in her ears. She ignored the need to crack every bone in her body. She ignored the urge to demand an explanation. She got on with it.

The first dozen had been fine, the next half a dozen not so good, the last few were cinders. She didn’t let herself think of who they were, not yet, that was for later. Four people were dead and she couldn’t allow herself to consider who they might be.

She dove headfirst into working. Performed three surgeries in four hours before being told to meet Staines in his office. Stepping outside of that environment, even for a moment, reminded her that the world was still turning, and it _almost_ broke her.

“Wolfe, I’ve just received the full report from the ANA officers who were covering the gate this morning. It was an incendiary grenade, thrown right over the fence and through one of the windows. The individual had a vehicle with him, and another man to drive. The ANA pursued for a few miles, chased them down and it resulted in a shootout. Both men are now dead.”

His words were sharp, plain facts. War was statistics, that’s how you had to see it. We lost 4, they lost 2, they won today. They got lucky, and threw a grenade and managed to do more damage than they were likely expecting to. It was over, it was in the past, there was nothing left now except to rebuild.

“Yes, Sir. Is there anything you need of me, Sir?” She questioned kindly, aware of the fact that he may have just lost four of his men. He would cope, he knew how to, he was a soldier.

“Get the job done. Keep the troops in high spirits if you can. Power through.” It was less of an order, more of an encouragement. He offered a reassuring nod as Bernie turned on her heel and left.

The day seemed to go on forever. Already, the hole in the wall was being filled so that the bay could be back in use as quickly as possible. Everybody was shaken, but being here meant that they were considerably more prepared than the Great British public might be in the same situation.

She didn’t let herself think on that. Even in the single moment that she had entertained how the hospital might deal with a grenade, she knew it was not the right thought to be having when she was supposed to remain calm.

Countless stitches later, she was relieved for the night and headed down to her accommodation. She would not sleep well tonight. It would be restless and broken and over far too quickly but she would try all the same.

Flummoxing down onto the bunk, she thought of how draining today had been. Her body needed rest, even if her mind was fighting against the idea. She thought of the lives lost today, wondered who they might be.

She hadn’t seen Piper all day, not since the canteen this morning. _Don’t think about it, Bernie. Stop thinking about it._

Her mind couldn’t shake the idea now. Normally Piper was almost a shadow when they were working the same shift, and there wasn’t a person for a square mile that hadn’t been working all day today.

Burying her head in her pillow, she tried to force herself to stop thinking and to let her body rest. Thirty restless minutes, and then she gave up.

Made her way back up to Staines’ office, saw he was still inside and awake, focused on his laptop screen intently. She knocked, received a summons, entered.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I couldn’t sleep. I made the realisation that I haven’t seen Lieutenant Piper since the grenade. I was wondering whether any identification had been made on the bodies yet,” she mumbled, almost as though she doesn’t want to hear the answer.

“You saw them, Wolfe. They’ve been sent off for dental records, but it’s going to take time to confirm anything. We _have_ taken roll call of the entire compound however, and there are only four individuals presently unaccounted for.” His words are tinged with sadness, with regret that Bernie recognised as something she had felt so often.

 He didn’t have to say anymore. Lucy Piper was dead. It was in his eyes.

She wondered who the other three were, whether she had known them. One life was enough to grieve tonight, she didn’t need to know.

Excusing herself, she left and returned to her bunk. Her body forced her to sleep and somehow the loss had exhausted her even more. She woke at 6 the next morning, got up and ready for another day, ready to grieve three more lives.

 _Don’t think about Serena right now._ It became a mantra, every now and then, a reminder that imagining the worst would do nothing good.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just gonna keep updating as regularly as i can manage to until i've made up for the time i've lost so prepare for the schedule to be a bit messy for the next week or so ,, hope you're enjoying

“Auntie Serena, have you seen the news?” Jason began at the breakfast table.

It was on the television in the corner of the kitchen, muted, barely noticeable. Serena flicked her head up at the enquiry, glanced over at the screen and saw the headline.

_TALIBAN ATTACK ON BRITISH FIELD HOSPITAL_

She stayed calm somehow, perhaps it was the shock that paralysed her very being and stopped her from reacting in any way at all.

“Auntie Serena? Are you okay?” Jason questioned intently, gulping down his orange juice while keeping his eyes fixed on the television screen. “Shall I turn the television up?”

A cautious nod and he reached for the remote, hit the volume button a handful of times, put it down.

“The hospital is based close to Afghanistan’s capital Kabul, and the attack is believed to be an act of a splinter group rather than the Taliban itself. According to official information, four deaths have been confirmed though it is uncertain whether they have been identified. According to Surgeon-General Alfred Staines, who is in control of the hospital, things will continue to run as usual.”

 _Staines._ That was all that had mattered. It was Bernie’s hospital. There were four dead bodies and one of them could be her. She needed to call, to hear Bernie’s voice if only for a few moments.

It was 7:42am. After 12 in Afghanistan then. She probably wouldn’t get through, and if she did, then she would be fobbed off and told that incoming calls weren’t permitted. Nevertheless, she had to try…if only for her own sanity.

“Why don’t you go and get ready, Jason? We need to leave soon if we’re going to be there in time for your shift,” she suggested, forcing her voice to remain steady.

He left the room, didn’t question it and didn’t seem at all worried about the possibility that Bernie could be dead. He never had been a worrier, it wasn’t in his nature.

As soon as she heard his feet hit the bottom step, she yanked her phone from her dressing gown pocket and unlocked it. Scrolling violently through the contacts, she wondered what she would even say if someone answered.

She tapped the contact – _Bernie Army_ – and brought it to her ear. It was ringing. Three, four, five—

“General Staines. Surobi. Who is this?”

“Sorry, I…uh. Don’t hang up, I just- you see. I know we’re not supposed to call, we’re supposed to wait, but I need to know she’s okay. That she’s alive at least. Bernie Wolfe, that is. I’m her next of kin,” Serena forced out, not quite sure whether her words had even made sense.

“You shouldn’t have called, that much is true. I’m afraid Lieutenant-Colonel Wolfe is busy right now, but I can confirm she’s alive and well. I’ll tell her you called, so hopefully you will hear from her soon. I must go though, goodbye.”

The dial tone rang out. It was over. Bernie was okay.

Bernie was okay. That was enough to get her through the day, for now at least. It would have to be.

 Serena spent her entire day with one hand on her trouser pocket, waiting for a phone call that might never come. It was understandable; Bernie was a busy woman, even moreso now, and she probably didn’t have time to be making personal calls.

That didn’t make her any less concerned, however.

She got through her day, shrugged off the concern of her colleagues with simple responses that would shut them up. Jason was worried, he’d been to see Serena four times since his shift had started, and it wasn’t like him to divert from what he was supposed to be doing even for a moment.

It was infinitely infuriating to not have any answers, to not know whether things were going to be okay and to be hyper aware that she was too far away to fix anything should something go wrong.

Tonight, she was going to crack open a fresh bottle of Shiraz and finish the entire thing by herself, because there was nobody there to stop her and there was nothing to keep her from making a poor decision.

She’d been overanalysing all day. It was highly unlikely that the General would’ve told her so casually over the phone that Bernie had died anyway. He almost definitely wouldn’t have told her if she was injured. There were so many possibilities that she was only now taking into consideration and it was killing her to think that she didn’t know the full story and that in all likelihood, it would be weeks before she heard the unadulterated truth.

Eventually six o’clock rolled around and she waited for Jason in Pulses, a cup of strong, hot coffee in her hand and a crease in her forehead which she couldn’t seem to smooth out no matter how many times she consciously told herself to stop worrying.

“Hello Auntie Serena, are you ready to leave?” Jason greeted, already headed for the door as he spoke. “Have you heard from Auntie Bernie yet or are you still worrying unnecessarily about her?”

“I haven’t heard from her yet, Jason, no. Although she’s very busy, so I don’t expect to hear from her anytime soon,” Serena answered honestly, eyes following her feet as she crossed the staff car park and paused to unlock the car.

Jason didn’t respond. He had become remarkably tactful since taking on a job in the public sector. He knew when someone wanted quiet, and right now, Serena wanted to bury her head in the sand and pretend that everything was perfectly normal.

She believed that Bernie would call. Bernie loved her. Bernie knew how much she would worry. Bernie was a considerate soul who would take the time to make sure that Serena wasn’t panicking. Bernie would call when she had the time, but who knew when that would be.

She selfishly hoped that it would be soon. Of course, she worried for the people who had been injured in the attack, for the people who had died, but her only real concern was for Bernie.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, this reminded her that just because Bernie hadn’t run this time, didn’t mean she was definitely coming back. Honestly, that made things far worse than she had allowed herself to anticipate, but she wouldn’t dwell for too long.

Bernie would call soon.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as uni work increases, these have become ever more inconsistent but i promise i will not abandon this fic. i already have a few of my favourite future chapters written and i'm not keeping them to myself. just might be a while waiting before i get a chance to make up the lost time. sorry kids, but serena is back and jemma is filming again next month so life is fecking good

Bernie would not be calling, not yet. Of course, she wanted to, there was nothing she wanted to do more but she couldn’t let Serena see her like this, hear her like this, or she knew that she would be worried about even more and she couldn’t cope with the pressure of that.

Lucy was dead. She had accepted that rather quickly. Luckily, in the environment she was presently shrouded in, there was no time to pretend that things weren’t happening and that the world around them wasn’t falling apart because it was and there was very little they could do to change that.

Lucy was dead. She knew it and she had processed it and she had grieved for the girl that she once knew. There was no bringing her back, there was no changing any of it, there was only moving forward with her life and trying to honour her colleague’s memory in that simple way.

Lucy was dead. Every time she walked out of her room, she was reminded of that. Every time she asked for assistance and a person who’s name she hadn’t bothered to learn yet came to her aid, she was reminded of that. Every five seconds, she would be reminded that someone she valued highly wasn’t around anymore.

“Lucy is dead,” she tells herself aloud, as though perhaps if she says it, her brain might begin to accept the fact that it is true.

All she wanted to do was to call Serena and cry down the phone to her and to listen to her promise that everything was going to be perfectly okay. However, she was faced with the knowledge that she couldn’t, or rather that she shouldn’t.

Bernie wonders if the world decided to remind her that life could never be happy for too long without something ruining it.

“Wolfe, we need you, it’s urgent,” Staines states, already gone from the doorway by the time her head snaps up to look at him.

She stands, she walks, she talks, she does her job, she copes because it is what she is trained for. Everything is just as it normally would be. She had lost people before and she would lose them against and she couldn’t go to pieces every time it happened or she would just let more people she cared about die in the process.

She needed to call Serena, and she would. Perhaps this evening.

Right now, Bernie needed her routine, every intricacy of it that made her feel like a normal human being and allowed her to pretend she wasn’t grieving right now. Grief wasn’t for the battlefield, and her life was restricted to a warzone right now, so all emotions were on hold until she got a few minutes to herself.

Raking herself through the day, she acted like everything was entirely fine and told herself that she would cope entirely normally. She coaxed herself into it with promises of a phone call with Serena at the end of the day and managed to pull through twelve entire hours without a mention of Lucy’s name.

Dinner was served, and she ate quickly, eager to use Staines’ office phone before he finished dinner and she was hurried along. She slipped into his office unnoticed and picked up the phone, tapping in the thirteen digits straight from memory.

The tone rang in her ear, once, then twice, then a click and the sweet and familiar voice of home.

“Serena,” Bernie greeted in response and stopped there, unsure of how to continue.

“Bernie,” and it was followed by the familiar click of AAU’s office door. “How are you? Everything going okay after the attack? What time is it there? Are you looking after yourself?”

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. We’re rebuilding and we’re coping and we’re keeping things on track. I called because I knew you’d be worrying about pretty much everything, and because I promised I wouldn’t leave you wondering whether I was alive or dead, and because I miss you.”   

“I have been worrying, but I’m allowed to because I love you and I miss you and there is nothing else to do with my days apart from wondering what you’re doing skulking about the Afghani desert in uniform,” Serena offered light-heartedly, and it eased Bernie’s heart instantly to know that these months hadn’t been filled with needless anxiety.

 Bernie had a smile spread wide across her cheeks as she listened to Serena’s words.

“So, how is Holby coping in lieu of my magnificence? Absolutely dreadfully, I presume,” Bernie joked, so pleased to settle so comfortably back into their divine rapport. 

“Barely holding the place together with you, darling!” Bernie felt the hitch in her breath at that pet name, the one she had missed so desperately for these long months. “But in all truth, we’re all fine, waiting on you to get back to us and pick up the slack again!”  

“Pleased to hear it, I will be on call for all scut work for my first month back, as my way of repaying you all for the troublesome bore of having to live without me!” Bernie vowed, regretting the words as soon as they passed her lips and knowing that Serena would set that particular remark in memory. “I’m sorry to say it but I should really go, phone calls aren’t something I’m allowed on the books and I can’t take advantage of all the privileges this job gets me. We’ll speak soon though, give Jason and the gang my love,”

“Okay, Bernie. Love you,”

“Love you too.” The dial tone rings out and she sets the phone back into the cradle.

It had been brief. So brief that she had allowed herself to not think about Lucy Roper for the entirety of it, and that was a relief in itself. She stood to leave with a renewed sense of energy and the knowledge that this wasn’t forever, that she didn’t have to tie down her every thought for too much longer.

Only 83 days until she could curl up and cry if she needed to.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a short one, sorry about that, it's basically just filler bc i'm trying to get to uploading my favourite chapter now !!!

When Hanssen summoned her to his office, she had worried that someone had made a complaint about on her staff or that something had gone terribly wrong. What she had not expected, was an ultimatum of sorts.

“Ah, Ms Campbell!” Henrik greeted, gesturing towards the chair at his desk and waiting for her to take it. “I want to talk to you about something that we should’ve discussed some time ago.”

“And why Henrik, did you decide that the middle of the busiest shift of the week was the appropriate time to discuss this impending problem?” Serena asked harshly, crossing her left leg over her right.

“I think, perhaps, it is time to hire a locum in order to help maintain AAU in Ms Wolfe’s absence,” he suggested tentatively, and he was prepared to be met with fire.

Serena’s eyes widened, and she glared at him. He swallowed thickly, clicking his pen repetitively as he waited for a response.

“For over 100 days, you have said no, you have said the trust can’t afford a locum, you have said that if Bernie wants her job back when she returns from service that I have to keep the place going singlehandedly while she’s away,” Serena reminded him, “and _now_ , with less than three months to go, you want to find a replacement for her after dragging me through the gruelling experience of multi-managing my own ward, _and_ a trauma unit?”

She did not look pleased. Henrik had expected that after all the times he had refused to provide a long-standing fill in for Bernie. He hadn’t quite expected the pure vitriol in her tone, it was almost as bad as when the trauma bay had been _temporarily_ shut down over funding and Serena had come back to save it with a vengeance unbeknownst to man.

“Indeed, with the coming pressure of the holiday season, I thought it best that we find someone to bear a little of the weight. Ms Wolfe will still have a job to come back to, I can assure you of that. She built that trauma unit single-handedly and it will always be hers to return to.”

He placed his pen down in perfect alignment with his mousepad and smiled awkwardly.

“And who, might I ask, will this locum be?” Serena enquired begrudgingly. “I presume you’re ready to thrust somebody upon me.”

“In fact I was waiting to ask your advice on the matter, who do you think would best fill the breach?”

“I think we both know the answer to that, Henrik, but the woman for the job is rather indisposed at the moment I’m afraid,” she offered smarmily. “In all seriousness though, I’m unsure. I’ll take whoever is given to me, it’s only for a few weeks after all.”

Henrik offered her an understanding nod, promised that he would find somebody suitable, and wished her a good day.

The door banged shut as Serena made her way into the corridor and headed back to _her_ ward. _Hers and Bernie’s and not some stranger’s._

She wanted to call Bernie and to moan about her day and to moan that Henrik was doing everything in his power to cause her more stress. She wanted to fall into bed tonight and have Bernie right beside her to tell her that the world wasn’t going to fall apart. She wanted Bernie here, that’s what she wanted.

It didn’t take long for the news to spread that there would be a new face on the ward.  Everyone seemed a little reserved around Ms Campbell, so apparently the news had also spread that Serena hadn’t been what one might call pleased about the news.

She busied herself with her work, told herself that it was just another colleague and that it didn’t mean anything. All she was thinking about, however, was the threat that this individual posed to the dynamic of the ward and to Serena’s workplace sanity.

There was an e-mail from Henrik in her inbox, she had yet to open it but she could guess what it entailed. It wasn’t until the end of her shift that she actually bothered to click on the e-mail, only to see a name she didn’t recognise and credentials that sounded acceptable.

Serena headed home with Jason in tow and a glum expression on her face, wishing that she could hit fast forward on the next few weeks. All she wanted was for things to go back to normal, and she was just going to have to stick it out until they did.

77 days of letting strangers run her ward and accepting cups of coffees from people whose names she hadn’t bothered to remembered. That was all.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so the next couple of chapters after this one are the ones that have been written for ages that i've been really eager to upload so i'm gonna throw them up straight away and hope you enjoy !! there'll probably at least one more update this week because i don't have classes, love xxx

Things had settled back to normal in Kabul. Day by day, they pulled their way through and tried to cling on to what they had left of familiarity.

Bernie had taken to kissing the photo she kept of her family out of habit. It was from their first Christmas altogether – Charlotte, Cam, Jason, Elinor, her, and Serena.  

Everybody had settled in and had started to relax a little. For weeks now, the majority of the team had been the same people, so everyone knew each other fairly well.

Staines kept his distance from most, trying to maintain his image as leader and hoping that it was working the way he wanted it to. The only person he really spoke to was Bernie, they’d known each other so long and so well that at this point, they were practically equals.

It was common knowledge that Bernie used to be Staines’ boss, and that he simply sped up through the ranks faster than anybody had expected him to. The dynamic between the two of them had a positive effect on the entire hospital, with such a direct chain of command to the man in charge.

“Good day, Wolfe?” Staines greeted as he took a seat opposite her in the canteen.

“Entirely efficient and no fatalities for over 48 hours so yes, a good day, Sir.”

She ate a mouthful of mashed potato, wondering what it was that he wanted to discuss. Even at the best of times, Staines was not a man for small talk and he obviously had something he needed from her.

“Look, I need your advice and I’m not sure you’re the right person to ask but you’re my only option out here,” he rambled, pursing his lips awkwardly. “I’m gonna propose to Lydia when I next get some leave, and I don’t know how to do it.”

 Bernie balked at him, wondering why on Earth he had asked her – an unmarried lesbian with a 2-year long relationship to boot because she didn’t have the nerve to pop the big question.

“I mean, I think you know what you’re doing. You’ve been together almost three years now so I’d presume that she’s waiting for you to ask her. There’s not much you can do to mess it up,” Bernie reasoned, taking a sip of water. “Tell her you love her and you can’t live without her, keep it simple, none of that dramatic hullabaloo.”

It felt silly to her, to be giving him proposal advice when she wasn’t even good at being married, let alone proposing to anybody. Nevertheless, he nodded thankfully and proceeded to ask her a long list of questions about where and how.

She tried to help him but there wasn’t much that she could say. Didn’t he have other friends, friends who had done this sort of thing before? It wasn’t exactly her area of expertise and here she was telling him everything that he should and shouldn’t do to get his girlfriend to agree to spend the rest of her life with him.

It made her wonder if she could ever find the courage to ask Serena. Neither of them had a pretty history with marriage, they were perfectly happy as they were so, was it really worth the risk of branding their love with something so much more formal?

Alfred went on and on about how much he adored Lydia and how he wanted to make it perfect for her. It made Bernie think of Serena, and how all she wanted was to take her out to dinner and to treat her like a lady and to cherish every moment spent with her.

Somehow, she found herself getting a little annoyed with Staines for making her think about Serena, for dampening her mood and reminding her of the distance between them. There was a lot of guilt that came with that though, she was scheduled to go home in 10 weeks and he was going to be out here for another year at least, she wasn’t entitled to miss Serena when they had been apart for such a short time.

“It’ll be perfect, Sir. You’ll make everything exactly the way you want it and it will be locked in your memory forever, a story to tell your grandkids,” she told him with a smile, heart swelling with pride for him.

“Thank you, Wolfe. It really means a lot coming from you,” he admitted softly, “and while I’m at it, I never got to thank you properly for agreeing to come out here at such short notice for me. There’s nobody else I’d rather have by my side here.”

When people tell you that the military is like family, they normally mean that because you spend all of your time together and you bond so closely so quickly. Really though, it’s because the people that you serve with, become the people that you turn to in your darkest hour. No matter whether it’s been days or years since you last spoke to them, when you need them, they will always be there for you.

Bernie’s definition of family had been shaped so completely by her experiences, and Serena was family, but more than that, she was home. She found herself longing for people even more than the place they inhabited, and sometimes she wished that she was missing a building instead because the ache you feel to have four walls around you is so static compared the ache for someone’s arms.

Staines had put the idea of engagement in her head whether he had meant to or not. She didn’t know if she would act on it, maybe she never would and it would remain one of those thoughts that she let keep her up at night.

All she wanted right now was to get home, and she didn’t care what she returned to as long as everybody was still in one piece. 68 days and counting.


	21. Chapter 21

Serena was trying to distract herself from the festive season, burying her head in the snow and waiting for January to come.

Jason didn’t seem to care, he was averted to the idea of a roast dinner in the middle of the week anyway, though he would have allowed the slight alteration had she been more enthusiastic. She had been trying to get the daytime shift but Henrik refused to give into her demands, telling her that he’d already organised it with the locum and he’d much rather not have to pay festive premiums if he could avoid it.

It was December 14th. Morven had decorated the ward with more bunting than Serena believed existed, and for once, she was the resident Grinch on AAU. Even Fletch was managing to keep his grumbling to an all time low, and Jasmine was thoroughly enthused about it.

“Fletch, you know that neither of us have the money right now to buy him that stupid car! He can ask again for his birthday! We don’t have the money to give them everything they want,” Raf exclaimed as he tried to busy himself with his work and ignore Fletch’s talking.

“I know we don’t! It’s just been asking for it for months, and he’s actually been behaving, Raf. If you don’t think that’s a Christmas miracle then I don’t know what is!” Fletch exclaimed as he continued to follow after Raf, now aware of Ms Campbell watching him. “I wouldn’t normally ask, mate. You do so much for me and the kids already, but I just really feel like he deserves a good Christmas this year.”

Serena approached the pair with that look she only ever used to tell them they were being idiots.

“You two, 12o’clock at mine on Christmas Day. Bring the kids with you, drop off any presents the night before so they’re already there when the kids arrive. I’ll cook. You two don’t worry about anything except what Santa’s buying, alright?” She ordered confidently, watching Raf’s argument drift away before he had begun to speak it.

The two men nodded at her, fully aware that saying no to Serena Campbell was a very risky business.

As soon as Serena was out of earshot, Raf turned to Fletch and grumbled his agreement on the purchase. He knew that Mikey deserved it, truly, the kid had matured so much in the past year that he was barely recognisable. No matter what happened, this had to be the perfect Christmas, for Serena’s sake if not for anyone else’s.

Morven had been worried about Serena at this time of the year, wondered whether she should tell her Dad she couldn’t make it and spend her afternoon at Serena’s instead. Then again, she had planned to spend her afternoon with Cameron and that certainly wasn’t going to do a good job of distracting Serena from her absent love.

It had been a relief to hear that the boys would be going over with the kids for the day, Serena thrived on being needed by other people and she wasn’t going to get a minute to herself with a houseful of Fletchlings.

“Honestly, who’s even working Christmas this year? Everyone seems to have it off,” Raf pondered as he sat at the nurses’ station and mentally calculated everyone’s plans for the big day.

“Morv’s working the morning shift, I’m working the afternoon. We’ve got the locum in, plenty of the nurses will be here, and Dom’s gonna come over to cover for you since he’s got nothing to do and Keller are fully covered. Not that many more people are off than usual, just seems like it, I think,” Jasmine replied, a smile on her face as she answered.

Everybody had their plan for Christmas Day. The boys were at Serena’s. Jasmine was spending the morning with Jac and Emma. Morven was spending the afternoon with Austin, AJ, and Cameron. Bernie was spending it in the Afghani desert.

It was sad for them to all be apart, even though this was work and they had lives outside of it. AAU was more than work, it was a home of sorts and this was a messed-up idea of a family. They had spent Christmas apart before, of course, but because they were normally so desperate for workers on Christmas, they tended to see each other as shifts started and ended throughout the day.

“Festive injuries have started early this year, normally we can count on the 20th as the real start of the influx but here we are. It’s not like they even have the excuse of the weather, there’s barely any ice out there!” Morven interjected as she put down a new chart and grumbled about how busy the ward was today.

The ward was buzzing today, and everyone was already eager for the season to end so things could die down again. Christmas was a lot of fun for most people, even for people who worked in a hospital, it was other people _enjoying_ their Christmas that really threw a spanner in the works.

Serena tried to stay out of the festivities, tried to ignore the fact that this time last year, she had been dragging Bernie under conveniently-hung mistletoe and drinking Baileys at night. She’d put on a brave face and do the best she could for the sake of the kids, convince herself that this was what Christmas was supposed to be, but she wouldn’t let herself think about it for too long.

The Fletchlings would just have to fulfil their role as the ultimate distraction to Serena’s somewhat Scrooge-like mood this year if they wanted any good presents from her.

“Dr Digby! That had better not be even more decorations because they are becoming a health and safety hazard!” Serena joked sarcastically as she crossed the ward to leave, planning to head to ASDA on her way home and pick up everything she needed for a proper Christmas dinner.

She might have the worst Christmas she’d had in years, but she was great at pretending.


	22. Chapter 22

It was Christmas morning, 7:42am, when Serena heard her doorbell ring. Begrudgingly, she rose from her bed, threw on her dressing gown and padded down the stairs.

“Who in God’s name is at my door on Christmas morning?” Serena grumbled as she unlocked the front door and pulled it open, ready to demand an explanation from whichever poor neighbour had delivered themselves to this fate.

Not a neighbour. Not a stranger singing Christmas carols. Not Henrik asking her to work. Not Elinor having decided that Christmas _was_ worth a train fare.

“Surprise!” Bernie breathed out as she watched the shock which clouded Serena’s expression wash away with the refreshing sight of pure happiness.

Serena wrapped her arms around Bernie’s neck and held her tight, forgetting any intention of ever doing anything except this. It was quiet, slow, not the way it was in movies but something so much more heartfelt than that.

Breathing in her scent, feeling her physical presence, knowing that she was there. Serena dwelled in this moment for as long as her body would allow her to, revelling in the feel of Bernie’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulling her closer.

“It’s bloody freezing!” Serena complained as she loosened her grip enough to walk backwards through the door, letting Bernie follow her in. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Tears threatened to fall from Serena’s eyes, but she held them back, knowing that this couldn’t be the big emotional reunion she wanted it to be because there were still another 59 nights before Bernie was _really, truly home._

“Staines could see how drained I was, the weather’s so cold at the moment that things are at a bit of a standstill until it thaws. I fly back at 5:30 tomorrow morning, so it seemed a bit pointless but there was a supply flight coming out anyway, and he really didn’t mind losing me for 36 hours,” Bernie explained, letting her rucksack drop down her shoulders and land with a soft thud, pushing the front door shut.

“You, uh, you want coffee?” Serena suggested, heading for the kitchen and making sure Bernie stayed hot on her tail. Routinely, she filled the kettle and set it to boil, spooning some coffee into their mugs, Bernie’s still sat with those for daily usage after all these weeks.

Bernie’s gaze doesn’t leave Serena, stays focused on her, in absolute awe of this woman making her coffee. She would say it felt like Christmas just to be in the same room as her, but she wasn’t one for irony.

In her head, Serena was thinking of cancelling with the Fletchers, calling and telling them that her and Jason had both come down with something and she didn’t want to pass it onto the kids. She wanted this time with Bernie to herself, but she knew that would feel worse in the morning.

“So, what’s the plan, Batman?” Bernie asked in a light-hearted tone as she slipped off her jacket and draped it over the back of her chair.

“Jason will be down for breakfast at 8:30. Raf and Fletch are bringing the kids over at 12 and we’re aiming for dinner by 2 at the latest. An early night before my 6am tomorrow,” Serena reeled as the kettle boiled and she started to stir the freshly made coffees, slipping Bernie’s mug onto the kitchen table.

The two spoke normally over their coffee, as if it had been days rather than months since they had last seen each other. Pretending that this was it and they were back together now would only hurt more in the long run, so they would not entertain that idea.

At 8o’clock, Serena hurried upstairs and got ready as quickly as she possibly could, scared that leaving Bernie alone might cause her to miraculously disappear. Bernie slipped into the bathroom to change into comfier clothes, drawn from the wardrobe, still filled with everything she owned.

“Auntie Serena!” Jason called up the stairs at 8:31. “Have we had a break-in? Only it appears somebody has used Auntie Bernie’s mug for their coffee.”

“No, Jason! No break-in!” Serena responded as she padded down the stairs again and greeted Jason with a merry Christmas before walking into the living room where she found Bernie curled up on the couch. “Enjoying yourself?”

Bernie’s head snapped up at the sudden sound and she grinned at the sight of herself, buried in the blanket which had become known as ‘the wine poncho’ between the two of them. She was on her feet in a matter of seconds, arm outstretched to greet Jason, who appeared rather confused though not disappointed.

“I know it isn’t February 7th unless I slept for two entire months, and am rather confused as to your unplanned presence in our living room, Auntie Bernie. I suppose you can explain it over breakfast, nonetheless, I’m pleased to see you.” Jason offered his signature grin as he took her hand and shook it fiercely, rather delighted to have her back so unexpectedly.

The three of them returned to the kitchen where Serena made enough pancakes to feed a small army, and they all gorged themselves cheerfully on the feast.

Looking out of the window, the morning frost that had coated the garden was starting to thaw and the sun was starting to break through the cloudy sky. Serena, who had been prepared to cook alone, enlisted Bernie’s help with the most basic of the tasks and prayed that she couldn’t go wrong with them.

“So, how’s work?” Bernie questioned casually, enjoying the silence but wanting to make the most of every second she had left.

“Apart from the disaster that it always manages to be? Okay, I guess. Henrik eventually decided that it was worth getting a locum so things are, on a practical basis at least, back to normal.” Even as Serena spoke the words, she knew how they sounded, as though AAU was fine without her and as though Serena was coping. Of course, she wanted to maintain that pretence if she could, she didn’t need Bernie to know that she’d been quite frankly a mess since she’d left.

“Henrik will be begging me to extend my tour if he can get away with paying locum wages and the place still stays afloat!” Bernie jokes, makes sure that Serena can see the humour in her eyes and knows she would never consider it. Even if Serena could survive it, Bernie tells herself, she isn’t sure that she could.

 Serena forces out a laugh at that, focuses on the peeling the potatoes, and reaches across to cover Bernie’s hand with hers for a prolonged moment. _You know we all need you back here_ , it said.

The rest of the morning is normal, although littered with more hand-holding and kisses and hugs than was customary between them. It was typical Bernie and Serena behaviour, just amplified.

When the Fletchers arrive with Raf in tow, they are all shocked to see that it is Bernie who answers the door to them. Mikey almost bowls her over, wrapping his arms around her waist and squeezing tightly before letting go and rushing in to see Serena and Jason.

Fletch wraps Bernie in a tight hold, so happy to have the AAU family all in one place. The girls are off with their own families, but they’ll call later and be equally glad to hear that Bernie’s turned up, equally disappointed that they weren’t here to see her.

As Serena watches the kids cause havoc in her living room, covering the floor in bundled up wrapping paper as they open their gifts, she feels the lump in her throat start to rise again. Bernie is bouncing Theo on her knee and Jason is talking animatedly with Mikey about a LEGO model the young boy has just received.

“Everybody to battle stations, dinner will be served in fifteen minutes and I want this room spotless by the time I get back in here!” Serena demands, slipping back out of the room and laughing at the sound of Evie trying to organise everybody.

As she separated the vegetables into dishes, she jumped at the feeling of Bernie’s hands at her waist before leaning back into the touch with a smile. It truly felt like heaven to have everyone back together for Christmas…apart from the kids, which would have been a welcome addition.

“Can I help you with any of this?” Bernie whispers, pressing a kiss against the skin behind Serena’s ear and rubbing her nose against the tender spot.

“Take the cutlery and get Jason to set it, he’ll only get frustrated if one of the kids does it wrong. Then you can come back and help me carry all these through,” Serena replied, turning her head to give Bernie’s lips a brief peck before returning her attention to the roast potatoes.

They all sat down to dinner and happily served themselves, with Fletch taking the opportunity to carve the turkey and dish up a couple of slices onto everyone’s plates. Everyone’s except Evie’s, the freshly declared vegetarian. _If I’m going to spend my life saving people, then it seems a little hypocritical to spend my life endorsing the murder of animals,_ she had explained.

Dinner was marvellous, everything was perfect just as Serena had hoped it would be. Despite having a rather small family, she had always prided herself on hosting a good Christmas Day, and it was wonderful to have the house bustling with people for once.

Bernie even persuaded Mikey that washing up was a fun activity, though her argument was driven mainly by the promise of ice cream afterwards. Serena sat drinking her first glass of wine of the day and wondered how she had ever imagined this day without Bernie here.  

The rest of the afternoon was comparably calm. The kids busied themselves with their gifts, and Jason started reading a new book he had received on _The World’s Strongest Man._ Fletch and Raf were sat watching something on the television, and Bernie and Serena were curled into the sofa, trying to remember every second of this day.

“Serena,” Evie drawled as she approached the pair with a confused expression.

“Yes, my dear protégé?” Serena responded, patting the arm of the sofa and offering a smile as Evie perched upon it. “How can I help you today?”

“My biology teacher keeps teaching us the wrong things and every time I correct him, he gets really angry at me. Can’t you take all your annual leave and come and teach us instead?” Evie suggested, picking at her cuticles as she spoke.

“Sadly not, darling. The hospital would fall apart without me, but you know I’m always only ever a phone call away. And you’ve only got another year left at that blasted school and then you can head off to college and start learning the important stuff!”

Bernie rolled her eyes at the way that Serena mothered the girl, she’d turned her into a mini-Campbell already and the girl would be well on her way to surgical genius by the time she started university.

After the kids had left, and Jason’s shows had finished, and the house was quiet once more, the two women climbed into bed. There was no sex that night, despite the desire for it, it didn’t feel right in that moment and so instead they held each other, whispering adoring words and offering gentle kisses until they drifted off to sleep.

When Bernie left the next morning, they treated it as they had before: just like any other day…and for a while, it truly felt like it was.


End file.
